Burnout
by xT-Zealot
Summary: How did the saying go? The brighter the flame, the faster it'll burn out. When Blake obtains information she knows to be important to one who should be an enemy, she runs the risk of snuffing them out completely. -Black Fang AU- Rated for sexual content. -Completed-
1. Just Another Night

**Author's Note: **I said I wasn't gonna done it and then I TOTALLY DONE IT!

* * *

><p>It was a game of cat and mouse with Blake, ironically enough, playing the mouse.<p>

However, it was a role she upheld to a certain point. Currently she may as well be such a rodent scurrying around in the dark while a bigger and fiercer predator was on the hunt for her. She was outmatched, this much she knew, and to be caught at this stage of the game would likely end poorly for her. With the two of them contained in an enclosed area, the odds of being located were not in her favor.

But she did not feel like a mouse. Mice don't bide their time, waiting for a chance to strike. And they most certainly don't find anything exhilarating about being on the run while they waited for such a moment, the risk of being caught not supposed to add to the excitement.

Blake's gaze was currently unobstructed. Not only did she need the full advantage of her night vision, she was also of the opinion that to not give it her all would be an insult to not only herself but her opponent too. Pressing her back against a crate, she carefully scanned her surroundings, trying to control her breathing all the while.

It was another warehouse similar to the one where they first met. This was populated with objects rather than people though, the building a storage center for numerous crates like the one she was leaning against. It created a little obstacle course that Blake had been navigating for...she had no idea how long. Time could be such a fickle thing when it came to circumstances such as this where what felt like minutes and hours were really condensed into seconds.

Within the center of the building burned a light that casted shadows all throughout the interior. How they wavered gave off the impression that a fire had been lit and Blake could feel the subtle increase in temperature.

The objective was simple: don't get caught. Blake had to constantly be on the move, keep her opponent guessing and on guard. She needed to keep the flames burning, her movements fuel that was added to them. She could've snuck off, left once the inferno came to life, but she couldn't do that and she knew that her opponent knew she wouldn't either. This game of theirs was something they wanted to enjoy to the fullest and what better way to do so than to play with fire instead of running away and playing it safe?

Besides, how did that saying go? The brighter the flame, the faster it'll burn out. She wanted to prove that she could last that long.

Blake carefully examined every shift of intensity of the surrounding light, trying to judge when it was safe to move. Funnily enough, it was when it was at its brightest that she considered it to be the right opportunity to do so because that would be when her adversary had their back turned and the source of this illumination would be fully presented. When she decided that such an opening was made, she quickly moved across one of the few but hazardous openings that could lead to her discovery.

It would've been quicker but she didn't use her Semblance. Other than her Aura levels being something she had to worry about, she couldn't allow any sound or minute disturbance that came with its usage.

_She's become very good at picking up on it,_ Blake reminded herself during the crossing.

But a noise she made. Before this turned into a round of hide-and-seek, they had been fighting and Blake carried a couple injuries and strained muscles. Concentrating so hard on maintaining her footsteps to be light and silent, she was unprepared for a sudden spike of pain located at her shoulder blade. The suddenness had her gritting her teeth, her step faltering ever so slightly which resulted in one heel landing harder than it should've. The click might as well have been a gong being hammered in what had once been absolute silence.

When she reached the safety of another crate, Blake waited with bated breath. For just a moment, everything seemed to come to a complete stop which included the dancers of shadow and light.

Then there came a sudden, deafening cacophony of sound. A humongous bang followed by an ear-destroying screeching of metal. There came another bang but this was different from the first; whereas the initial sounded like the thundering of a cannon, the second was more of a collision between two solid objects. The screeching resumed, growing closer and louder, and Blake only had a split second to understand what was happening and then she was using her Semblance to leap high into the air.

The clone she left behind was rammed by the crate that she had been hiding behind a moment ago. It and two other containers slid along the floor of the warehouse before they smashed into the wall, crumpling and folding together into a messy heap. Blake landed on top of them, already looking in the direction that they came from.

Heat and light replaced the dying clamor, a golden blaze rising over the pile before coming for the cat faunus. She hopped aside, a fist punching through where she had vacated and impacting against the side of the warehouse. There came another report and a hole was blasted into solid concrete, sending chunks outwards.

The head that the wildfire burned upon turned towards her, narrowed, crimson eyes meeting with wide ambers. No matter how many times Blake peered into them, there was always that fear mixed with the thrill of being so close to such raw, primal power that was clearly displayed within that smoldering gaze. It was these experiences that always made her feel so alive and why she would always look forward to the chance of the two of them meeting again as they were now.

Of course, such meetings always held the risk of her one day being scorched inside and out as those same eyes promised.

Blake hurriedly drew Gambol Shroud, not to attack but to defend as her opponent whirled towards her. Not even bothering to pull her fist out of the wall, the Huntress-in-training known as Yang Xiao Long just had her arm tear through more of the concrete in order for it to swing towards Blake. The faunus managed to get her weapon in position. It didn't do much.

Yang's fist landed directly against the flat surface of the black cleaver and was joined with the explosive force of Ember Celica. Blake nearly lost her weapon right then and there and she was unsure of how she managed to maintain a grip on it, but the same couldn't be said for her footing as she was sent off her feet and soaring over the edge of the cargo crate. She went with the momentum, twisting in the air to land sloppily on the ground as she took several steps back.

Her body tremored, having been shaken up by the jarring sensation of enduring such physical strength and she was reminded of why places such as at her back were plagued with strained muscles. Forget about being scorched, it was clashes such as that that had Blake wondering when her mortal construction of bone and flesh would fail against such an onslaught as it had on occasion.

Yang jumped after her, already firing off orange-yellow flares as she fell. Pushing her body through its weaknesses, Blake was leaping back as the bright projectiles whistled all around her. Knowing it was the other girl's plan to keep her in place now that she found her, Blake was doing all she could to foil it as to remain in her sights meant to eventually be overpowered.

She spun horizontally, two flares streaking above and below her, and when she landed she managed to add another meter between them before she was forced to use Gambol Shroud to slap a third off course. She unsheathed the sword portion, using it to split another one in half with the pieces flying harmlessly by.

She did away with four more in the same manner, taking as many steps as she could back in order to move further away from Yang. When she was like this, with her Semblance activated and she at full power, any plan of Blake holding her ground may as well be madness. She was a walking, fiery juggernaut who took any and all damage she may endure during battle and turn it into strength. While her enemies became exhausted as the fight went on, she became more powerful.

Unstoppable would be one way to describe her if Blake didn't know her weakness. All that energy that she absorbed, contained, and then had coursing through her body made for a very extravagant show. One must question as to what would happen when that energy was used up.

Blake could win. All she needed to do was let Yang burn herself out.

And Yang needed to beat her before then so Blake was expecting the moment when, instead of another projectile, the young Huntress shot herself towards the faunus in a desperate bid to end the fight now. It was one of her usual methods to get in close, using her gauntlets to propel her forward, and Blake had suffered dearly each time she was caught. She got better and better at countering it each time though.

Blake fell backwards, avoiding Yang's grasping arms, and kicked both of her feet into her stomach, sending the flame-haired brawler arching high up into the air. In her one hand, the sword half of Gambol Shroud converted into its pistol form and Blake trained it on her airborne opponent before letting loose with several shots.

Yang had nearly touched the roof of the warehouse before her body started jerking with each bullet that impacted against her Aura. When gravity began bringing her back down, she recovered enough to start blocking the remaining slugs with Ember Celica. She landed hard, ending on her hands and knees and she suffered from another direct hit before she got her gauntlet back up.

Blake was rolling on the ground, still firing as it was now her who was attempting to keep Yang at bay. Her efforts met similar results, the girl easily intercepting each shot as she not only stood up but began to charge towards Blake. By then the faunus was back up as well, retreating but still shooting to slow her down as much of possible.

Her foot bumped into something and Blake spared a glance down to see that there were Dust crystals lying around her. She didn't need to check to know that these particular crystals had to have come from the smashed crates and instead used the moment to reposition her foot and kick the one she touched towards Yang. When she switched targets, the muzzle of her pistol pointing to the crystal, its rapidly growing closeness to the light of Yang's hair let Blake make out it's purple coloring before she squeezed the trigger.

The realization of what the results of her actions were going to be coincided with her bullet shattering the crystal. The hue of the surface identified this particular Dust as Force. It was not one of the four basic elements, instead an artificially-created one that came with combining them. Although not as volatile as it's powdered form, a reaction could still be made by destroying a crystal in a way that Blake did - especially one that was made through forcefully mixing differing elements.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. The added shot of adrenaline and alarm granted Blake a moment of clarity that allowed her to see how the pieces of the destroyed crystal began to break apart...and then stopped. They hovered in place, purple energy crackling between them. For a split second those pieces seemed to draw closer together as if they were going to reform and recontain what had just been unleashed.

Then the very air appeared to shudder, heralding the shockwave that launched those crystalline pieces and everything within the immediate vicinity everywhere. Blake was able to discern a transparent wall of the same color of the Dust that produced it just as it hit her. She managed to dig her heels and bring up her arms in preparation but she was still sliding as a result. Fortunately for her, it was nowhere near as strong as one of Yang's full-powered punches.

Unfortunately for Yang, she had been much closer. When Blake lowered her arms and looked to see what happened, it was to see her adversary removing herself from an indent that perfectly matched her form within the metal side of a cargo crate that warped a corner of the white painted snowflake on its surface. Once freed, the girl stumbled and dropped to a knee. With her lowered head, Blake could see how the flames on top of her head, once so strong and lively, now weakly grasped at air as if struggling to remain in existence.

This was her chance. Understanding it as such, Gambol Shrould's blade flipped and extended upright, ready for the next part-

_No, no blades._

The thought was accompanied with something that was out of place in this duel: concern. When there had been nothing previously except a stimulation of excitement and the thrill of such a ferocious battle, this sudden worry of another's well-being was painfully noticed. It caused Blake to do something that she had never done before: she hesitated.

And during that moment of hesitation there came the image of black blood. Blood that seeped out and stained brown leather, trickling down a blade of the same color.

It was that sword that Blake held in her hand.

_ No blades._

Blake sheathed Gambol Shroud.

She had a better, more satisfying way to win anyway.

Yang lifted her head just as Blake was almost upon her and the faunus used her Semblance to clear the remaining distance and knee her in the face. Yang dropped, arms flailing, and Blake caught one of them at the wrist, her hands slipping beneath Ember Celica's golden plates and the barrel that protruded from it. She followed Yang down, bringing her legs around either side of Yang's shoulder, extended the arm, and then began to do the same with her body.

The gun barrel was dangerously close to her. If Yang had anymore shells left, she could potentially hit Blake with a point blank shot.

But she was empty. Blake knew she was. If she wasn't she would've used one to soften her landing when Blake had kicked her. She would've fired back with Ember Celica while Blake was shooting at her with her pistol or attempted to come in close again like she did before. No, she used her shots in a bid to end the fight right then and there.

Yes, they've come to know of each other and their capabilities very well. That was what would make this victory perfect. To be willing to get this close to the blaze that was Yang Xiao Long, to beat her with her own strength and the knowledge that came from the experience of several of these duels - it was an opportunity that was too good to pass up.

As Blake levered Yang's arm though, about to create the hyperextension that would turn into an inevitable break, the sudden tensing of her opponent's muscles and the halting of the movement that Blake sought to perform told her that her plan wasn't going to go as she wanted it to.

She caught sight of Yang's eyes. Much like her hair, those red orbs had been weakening and specks of lavender began breaking through. The sudden suppression of the second color and the reinforcement of the other made it quite clear to Blake that she was about to get burned. For her legs, it became literal. The fire that encompassed Yang's hair was revitalized and the cloth of Blake's black leggings were inadequate to protect her against the spike of heat that started searing her skin due to the strands that were draped over it. Usually her Aura would protect her from this and the fact that it wasn't indicated how low it's become.

Blake endured. Teeth gritted and exposed, a growl of pain and exertion issuing behind them, she struggled and fought to complete the deed as she pulled on Yang's arm. It refused to budge and, soon, it was not the arm that was bending with her body but her body that was bending with the arm as Yang flexed it. More than that even as Blake found herself being lifted along with the limb.

She saw a grin slowly spreading along Yang's face. She didn't make use of her free arm. She didn't have to nor wanted to. She desired to show Blake just who was really the strongest of the two of them.

She made that abundantly clear when she smashed Blake into the same crate that the faunus sent her into earlier. The collision stunned Blake, her grip weakening, but she was quickly hammered into the container again before it gave out.

Then there was a bone breaking.

Blake must've blacked out but only for a moment. When she came to it was to find herself slumped with her back against the crate. She could feel the dents that were made by Yang and her.

There was also pain. Water had gathered in her eyes and a couple tears slid down her cheeks as agony tore through her shoulder, the faunus hissing in response. It returned her to full consciousness and Blake pushed her suffering to the side when she noted that tall, infernal figure that stood over her.

Once she managed to raise her chin up to look at her, Yang tilted her head, brow quirked in question. "You done?"

Blake said nothing for a few seconds, forcing her gaze to remain locked on those burning eyes. Then she bowed her head, releasing a breath of defeat while she relaxed. "Yeah, I guess you had enough."

There came a snort. "Good, cause I am beat!"

And just like that, the flames on top of Yang's head were extinguished as if doused with water, sending the interior of the warehouse into complete darkness. Blake's night vision took over, adjusting right as Yang dropped to the floor unceremoniously. She rested on her butt, arms back and holding her up, but that didn't last long as she toppled over completely, limbs splayed out all around her as she panted for breath.

Blake couldn't prevent the curving of her lips as she viewed the state that this seemingly invincible girl had been reduced to. Long hair even messier than before laid out beneath her like a blanket, well-endowed chest heaving with every gasp that echoed, and Blake could make out the tears in her clothing and blemishes on her exposed skin that acted as her own collection of marks of battle. It was difficult to see with the rest of her clothing, but Blake could nonetheless make out how that yellow top clung to her sweat-soaked skin while her bangs did the same at her forehead.

Blake wished she could lie around just as carefree but she dare not make even the smallest of movements with the risk of aggravating an injury that eclipsed whatever she had done to Yang. Resigning herself to remaining in this position, she looked to the gasping blonde and commented, "You lasted longer than last time."

Yang lifted a finger as a sign for Blake to give her a bit more time to regain her breath and what could the faunus do but wait patiently? Eventually the deep and heavy breathing began to lessen in severity but the brawler didn't lift herself back up, instead shifting her body just a bit in order to bring Blake's silhouette into her inferior human sight.

"I'm only as good as my opponent," Yang finally responded. "How strong I become depends on the amount of damage I take. You've gotten better."

Made sense and Blake experienced a satisfying sense of pride at the praise. She couldn't help but ask, "You were out, right?"

"Yeah." Yang lifted up her arm again, giving it a shake to better show off the bracelet that used to be a fully-formed gauntlet. "I made do with what I had left after I got you out of hiding. If I didn't get you then, I wouldn't have been in the shape to do so later anyway."

"Could've fooled me; I thought you really were out of it when I approached you."

"Oh I got knocked pretty good when you shot the Dust - real quick thinking, by the way - and I was pretty surprised when you decided to come in close. That was kind of risky though, don't you think? Even for you."

Blake was about to shrug to better sell an illusion of nonchalance until she remembered that she couldn't. She settled with trying to keep her tone as light and untroubled as possible. "Risk versus reward. I felt like having a bit more to gloat about."

It was because of her superior vision that she was able to witness how Yang lifted her head an inch from the floor and how her eyes squinted in a vain attempt to make out Blake's features or, at the very least, the subtle lie in her words. The faunus kept her face unreadable if only for the off chance that the human somehow found a way to improve her eyesight enough to start being able to see in the dark.

Whether that was truly the case or not, Yang seemed satisfied and there came a smirk. "You think the reward would've still been worth it?"

Blake mirrored the expression. "Definitely." The pain having waned enough to try moving, the faunus lifted the arm that she could still move without problems. She gripped the wrist of the one she couldn't and held it close to her body and she groaned painfully at the manipulation.

Yang quickly sat up, her exhaustion having miraculously vanished. "Alright, yeah, I heard it. What did I break?"

No matter how many times it's happened already, Blake would always still feel slightly put off by how much concern this berserker - this_ human_ - was capable of giving when, moments ago, she had tried smashing more than just one bone in her body. She went with it nonetheless. "Collarbone. I can't see how bad."

"Let me."

Blake was about to mention that she couldn't but Yang already had a fix for that. She fished for her scroll, the light that came from the device offering a source of illumination as Yang leaned towards Blake. She carefully took the shoulder strap of Blake's white tunic and eased it off, letting it hang down her arm. Blake tried to smother any reaction but she flinched at the stab of agony that even that minute action promoted.

Muttering a "Screw it", Yang set her scroll down between them before ripping the black bodysuit beneath to expose the designated area.

It was the closest that a human had ever gotten to her without Blake doing something to push them away, usually with violence. The aggression that had become all but instinctive when a member of that race came in such proximity was absent as well. It let the faunus admire Yang while she was tended to.

Although she had excellent night vision, she couldn't distinguish color so it was only with the light of Yang's scroll that she could see how her irises had reverted from such hostile red to her normal lilac that exhibited nothing but careful examination. Her touch had similarly changed, fingertips ghosting over the space between Blake's shoulder and neck whereas once the hands they belonged to had been nothing more than tight-fisted, bludgeoning weapons.

"The break's not bad," Yang informed, gaze not so much as wavering. "It's gonna swell really good though." She looked back over her shoulder. "I don't exactly carry ice on me but there should be a Freeze Crystal-"

"Let's not," Blake interrupted, already knowing what she was getting at. Yang's fighting skills were impressive and abilities astonishing but controlling the power of Nature's Wrath was not one of them. Trying to manipulate its power - especially when it's an element that was in stark opposition to Yang's preferred one – for some improvised Dust triage was not something that Blake was willing to test and see. "This isn't the first one that you've been responsible for. I'll just concentrate my Aura on the site to heal it until I get it looked at."

"What Aura? If I'm running low then you've gotta be damn near empty."

She had a point there and it was truer than what Blake would like to admit but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. "I'll be fine. I have..." She trailed off.

Moments like these, it was so easy to forget. Sitting here, together, tending to the injuries they've inflicted upon one another while complimenting each other's abilities, the bleed-off of adrenaline and endorphins leaving them to bask in the satisfaction of a battle well-fought and the aches and pains that they relished in with a mix of pride and a confirmation of how alive they remained despite how much it hurt.

It was so easy and so freeing to just shut out the world and the complications that came with it, simplifying it by just focusing on the two of them. It was those same complications that would usually make something like this impossible.

"...I have help," Blake finished. She had people. Allies. Comrades. Something that Yang was not.

At the same time, she didn't consider Yang as an enemy either.

"Right," Yang replied, her tone signaling that she understood too. It regained its airy quality when her hands went to her scarf. "Well, nothing wrong with making a proper sling until you get it."

Blake stared pointedly at the fabric. "Not with that."

The blonde stopped just shy of touching the scarf. "Ah, come on; just call it a trophy or whatever. I took your sword once."

Despite herself, Blake glanced down from Yang's face and to her brown jacket. To be exact, she stared at a point beneath the girl's right breast where a line of stitching was located. It was nearly impossible to notice unless you knew where to look for it but Blake did know and could see it. She didn't stare long and motioned to her good arm. "Use those."

Yang complied, untying and unwinding the ribbon that was wrapped around the limb, being careful so as not to touch or jostle the other arm and potentially hurt Blake. Once she had a length of it, she began forming an improvised sling. Despite the care she took, Blake still winced or bit back another hiss or groan in response to another sharp sting of pain.

In between, she once again found her attention being drawn to Yang, particularly when the girl's face drew particularly close to her own in order to loop the ribbon behind Blake's neck. When they first met, Yang had been wearing some kind of perfume that had been overbearing to the faunus's sense of smell. Even now she couldn't detect Yang's real scent, it being covered up by that burnt, acrid stench that would permeate every inch of her form after the firing of several of her shells. The residue of the powdered Burn Dust that was loaded into them had a particular smell that coated over whatever may be purely Yang.

The same could be said to her skin. She was undoubtedly strong and Blake could make out the bruise beneath her gold bangs that hardly affected her but the area surrounding the black and blue was smooth and peach colored. These souvenirs of battle had used to be enough for Blake, the faunus gaining gratification when she saw for herself just how she had managed to break through Yang's defenses and land a blow on more than one occasion during their battles.

They always met in combat though. Lately Blake had been wondering, as she was now, just how Yang looked outside of it - without her gauntlets, without violent intentions, or any signs of battle on her.

"Huh."

Blake blinked, it dawning on her that her sling was done but, instead of pulling away, Yang was examining her injury again. "What is it?"

"Black lace." A smirk lit up on her face, those lilacs that were in fact trained beneath Blake's broken collarbone twinkling. "I figured but didn't want to presume."

Blake forced her brows to lower threateningly. "If I could, I'd hit you right now. I still might."

Yang leaned back, the smirk lessening but remaining. "Alright there, kitty-cat."

The slight curl to Blake's lip wasn't as forced, a notable fang glinting in the dim light. "_Don't_ call me that."

The smirk did die off completely at that with Yang realizing that she had gone too far. It was par for the course where, once another match has been settled, that the more jovial of the two would try to make jibs and generally poke fun at the darker combatant. In the beginning it would be a struggle to get even this far but each of their duels tended to end with Blake being increasingly willing to respond to them.

That being said, there were still limits with the strictest one being placed on anything that referred to Blake's heritage that was responsible for the pair of cat ears on top of her head. Nevertheless, such a nickname that Yang uttered would've ended with her at the end of a pointed sword rather than just a critical rebuke. One could call that progress.

Yang raised her empty hands to dissuade Blake from thinking about drawing her blade on her anyway, a tense silence ticking past between them. It was only when Blake's lip fell back over that incisor as if sheathing that tiny weapon that the human considered it safe to speak. "Anyway, the sling's done. That should make it pretty convincing for your White Fang buddies."

Blake inspected Yang's handiwork and silently agreed. For a brawling berserker, Yang wasn't that bad of a medic and the faunus assumed that Beacon taught it's trainees at least some basic first aid. That or their engagements had given extra incentive for Yang to learn how to put their bones back together with how often they tended to be taken apart.

"It'll do," Blake admitted aloud. She gestured to Yang's sloppy attire. "Will that be enough to convince your team or should I really hit you one more time?"

The joke served to discard any lingering misgivings. Grinning, Yang replied, "I doubt my team is any more willing to think we've got anything else going on either. Honestly, it was a little difficult getting away from the main fight to follow you. They don't exactly like you and don't want me fighting you alone."

Thinking of how she and Yang have crossed paths again - another Dust robbery with Team RWBY just happening to be at the same place at the same time once more -, Blake wondered, "Think they've finished?"

"A while ago," Yang predicted. "I've probably got a boatload of messages asking where I am right now."

As if orchestrated, there came the blinking and shaking of Yang's scroll, the vibrations causing light to play across their features. Another message but one that the blonde wasn't inclined to leave unanswered as she picked it up. Blake barely managed make out part of a name – _Rose _– before the screen was out of view.

How they spoke and acted seemed much too reminiscent of a couple who was trying to hide an affair from those closest to them. When you got right down to it though, this setup of theirs was hardly that much different to the methods that living beings would take in order to make the world a bit more bearable with its stresses and burdens. Some chose to drown their troubles with drink, others to deaden or twist their sense of reality through other substances, and even more may decide to lose themselves in guilty passion with the company of another.

Blake had dabbled in such a selection, trying to replace what had been lost to her in ways that human and faunus turned to. Fortunately, it became apparent to her early on that the reason she couldn't find any comfort or, at the very least, a distraction, was due to a quiet acceptance that such things – self-destructive they may be – have become invalidated to her. Any such worldly things she's become immune to because of how she knew that she had given up any future in the world itself.

It made her wonder why she took so much enjoyment in these duels of theirs but she thought she found an explanation for it. Their fights embodied everything that was both true to the world but, at the same time, true to the delusions that Blake had once entertained. The reality of how human and faunus have warred and are still warring for generations with the briefest respites that took place in between – moments dubbed as 'peace' – being few and brief before war would break out once again.

In contrast to the rest of their respective species though, the two of them didn't fight out of hatred or fear. They fought with the objective to prove who was better in a pure contest of their skills and strengths and nothing else. Race was not a concern, ideals that could motivate but more often than not deceived were set aside. Their desire for victory and the intense but exhilarating emotions that came with such combat were completely pure with no strings attached. And when they did take their breaks as they did now, Blake felt a true sense of what one would call peace even as pain wracked her body.

Of course, the pain fulfilled two purposes. One was to confirm that Blake was indeed alive and what she was experiencing after a job well done was real. As for the other, it was to serve as a punishment for all those times she had killed without feeling anything before.

As much she would like to completely forget about everything, there was always something that will pull them back to reality.

For Yang, it was the worries of her team. Looking back at Blake after lowering her scroll, she said, "I gotta get going. I said I'd meet them a couple blocks north of here so that should give you space to leave without trouble."

Blake nodded, working through the pain in order to sit up straighter. "I'll keep it in mind. Th-" She paused, the motion that her tongue was twisting into so bizarre that it made her do so. Forcing it to complete the deed, she finished, "Thank you, Yang."

It had been a long time since she had said that to anyone, not to mention doing so genuinely.

Yang smiled that easy, carefree smile of hers and began to stand before halting. She looked down at the scroll she clutched in her hand, teeth chewing on her lip with deliberation. "Actually, I have something to ask before I go."

This was new. They never really asked each other about anything. Although they were willing to meet this way despite what would be the obvious objections of their respective sides, they had never gone so far as to disclose confidential information even with the chance of increasing the likelihood of their meetings such as, say, Blake happening to let it slip about the next shipment or shop the Fang was planning on hitting that she would be a part of. They maintained their loyalty even if, for Blake, it was loyalty without substance.

The only other thing they could ask were questions about each other but they had also silently agreed to limit that to the bare minimum. Other than their names, what they did know about each other were things that they could and had figured out for themselves.

"I tend to ask this to almost everyone I meet," Yang explained, finger tapping on her scroll. "Really the only reason I haven't asked you 'till now is because I figured you wouldn't know but just in case…" Finding what she wanted, the blonde flipped the scroll around and presented the screen to Blake. "You wouldn't happen to have seen or know anything about this woman, would you?"

It was a picture. A woman, young – early to mid-twenties if Blake had to guess but no more than that – and lacked any obvious faunus traits so, unless stated otherwise, human. She didn't recognize her and Blake was about to say as much without any second thought as to why Yang was interested in her but stopped.

It was the hair. Long, curly. The color was different but…Blake glanced back up at Yang and her own disheveled mane. It was then that she noticed how the other girl was looking at her with eyes having grown subtlety tight with analysis.

"No," Blake replied honestly. "I've never seen her before."

There was a pause that Blake thought stretched longer than necessary. It ended when Yang pulled back her scroll, that analytical look melting. "Yeah, I kinda figured you wouldn't. I mean I suppose I should be glad that you don't all things considered."

"Right." Blake had said it quietly but Yang didn't seem to notice as she was looking at her scroll.

While she had her reasons to keep meeting as they do, Blake had never put any serious thought into any possible reasons as to why Yang has gone along with this. It was more than something else that they don't ask; Blake would never think about it at all. Yang never gave off the impression of having any kind of motive than what Blake had eventually settled on: she was a thrill seeker. She fought for excitement and Blake was someone who could give her the rush that her personality always craved. It was a simple explanation for an unusual situation but Yang was an unusual human all around.

But Blake saw how Yang was looking at the picture. Usually so jovial, the grin that she sent Blake was already weakening, about to waste away completely until Yang closed the picture.

Blake knew that look, having once worn it herself. That was the look belonging to someone who had a goal that they were pursuing. The faunus didn't know how long Yang has been searching for this woman, but the implications she could make out and the questions that she could tentatively answer such as when that picture was taken had her guessing it was for a while.

However long that may be, she could see the cracks already forming within Yang's resolve. Much like how she could recognize someone who possessed a cause, she could recognize the vestige of the strain that came when it was beginning to ask for more than what the individual could give. As time went by, there was only so much that hope and your own miniscule efforts could accomplish before it starts wearing you down.

Maybe that was why Yang did this; to use it as a distraction. To keep her mind off of how she has yet to obtain what she's been seeking and-

It wasn't Blake's concern.

The faunus slipped a hand beneath the sash around her waist, retrieving the item that she had set aside at the onset of their duel. An angular mask of smooth, white metal, the design of which only letting it cover the upper half of the wearer's face. Amber lenses glittered where the eyes would be located, violet bordering around them while black, curving lines stretched outwards. Descending from beneath were a pair of black fangs.

This was all that her life was now. It wasn't what she wanted but it was what she chose and she would follow it until she finally, truly left this world. She sacrificed her place in it a long time ago, all for the sake of her own cause that she had been devoted to and what had now enslaved her. She could have her fun but nothing changed about what she was.

With her one hand she slipped the Grimm mask upon her face. She pulled her hood up afterwards.

This was the only look left for someone like her.

Yet even as she began forcing herself to her feet, groaning all the way as she used the uneven surface of the cargo container as leverage, a light grip took hold of her shoulder and began helping her up, relieving her of her burden long enough for her to get her back on her feet. A turn of her head unveiled the source to be Yang with a rejuvenated grin – whether genuine or a mask of her own Blake wasn't sure.

"Catch ya later," Yang spoke, tapping her scroll to her forehead in a form of a salute before turning and taking that bit of light with her to guide her out.

Blake watched Yang turn and walk away, that long, curly curtain swaying behind her. Something, she wasn't sure what, compelled Blake to watch as Yang returned to that pile-up of crates she was responsible for. Even with the illumination, the brawler made a slight noise and stumbled, nearly slipping on one of those fallen crystals, but was soon hopping up to the top of the crates in order to reach the hole in the wall to exit.

Once she was gone and, with it, the light that she carried, Blake was once again shrouded in darkness. Turning around, she began to walk deeper into its depths, each of them going their separate ways until the time came to meet again.

It was just another night for the two of them. Blake could only wonder how many more they'd be allowed to enjoy before it would all have to inevitably come to an end one way or another.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>_Wanted to complete this in one big oneshot but after having such an erratic work schedule and messing around with a couple other fic ideas I ended up dumping after writing a couple pages, I decided to post what I have now with more to follow later. This is mostly me using this AU of mine for more experimentation…with the rating perhaps being a hint as to what I may be experimenting with._

**Brain: **Hey! HEY! Iron Banner Event is starting in _Destiny _and- hey, what are you doing?

_*immediately closes page* Nothing!_


	2. Revelations

**Author's Note: **Man, that took a while. That crazy work schedule I mentioned before? Ya, it's been a real pain in the butt lately. Even though I was working every day for my morning job, my night job was meant to give me four nights off this week. That number turned into one, lol.

Just a reminder: this fic was supposed to be one big oneshot before that work schedule and other things kind of got me frustrated to turn it into a multi-chap piece. Now, while it is a multi-chap piece, it is still gonna be a bit on the short side. I have three chapters planned but it's a tentative number and those chapters themselves are probably gonna be short. While it does give me opportunities to write more than what I planned on – 85% of this chapter wasn't supposed to exist -, things might still feel a bit rushed and that's because they probably are.

So, here we go!

* * *

><p>As Yang predicted, the area around the break did swell up pretty good. Shortly after parting, Blake made her way to the residence of a gazelle faunus who happened to be living in the direction that was away from where Yang was meeting the rest of her team. The faunus wasn't an official member of the White Fang, instead someone who the group marked as a sympathizer and, thus, someone that an agent such as Blake could turn to for shelter if they found themselves stranded and needed to lay low.<p>

The night's events finally caught up to her once she got to safety and the ice, while needed, did little to stave off the agony of not only her fractured clavicle but the various aches and pains of a body that had been battered around. She barely managed to send out a message to her comrades before shutting herself down on the supplied couch. A ride was waiting for her in the morning with the driver slipping the gazelle faunus a couple chips of Lien for her support while Blake, after stashing her mask and the tunic that had the group's emblem emblazoned on the back, occupied the passenger seat of the car.

The driver didn't take her directly to the hideout that was mainly used by White Fang's Vale cell, instead stopping a safe distance away and depositing Blake beneath the shadow of a railway line where the cat faunus took a slower but more discreet route to shake off any chance of pursuit. There were none, not that Blake expected any; compared to the more militaristic Atlas whose forces have become seasoned in the art of surveillance in response to White Fang's tactics, the officers of the VPD could barely be considered as a nuisance. As for the resident Huntsmen and Huntresses of Beacon, they concerned themselves more with the Grimm with an exception being the members of a certain first-year team.

Nevertheless, caution and discretion remained the White Fang's greatest asset with it being increasingly stressed upon as their operations grew in Vale. There was also the fact that Atlas _was_ here in the form of several warships and hundreds of soldiers that had accompanied one General Ironwood and his own entourage of students from the kingdom's combat school in lieu of the Vytal Festival. It was the worst time to let something like a lowering of a guard in the company of dumb cops to blow the group's operations.

Blake got to the hideout without trouble. It was another warehouse, the dreary interior something that she was accustomed to. It was more than just coincidence that the White Fang happened to keep their activities centered around these structures as it was the circumstances that led them to do so. Compared to the other districts in Vale, the industrial district was the biggest and busiest one, making it the best place to hide and it worked with their hours of operation. Hide during the hustle and bustle of activity during the day with the district doing the most work to supply not only Vale and its citizens with goods but uphold the kingdom's part to the trade agreements it had with the other three kingdoms. Once the sun set and work ceased, the faunus agents went to work under the cover of darkness to strike their chosen targets before returning to their hideouts to store whatever spoils of their crimes.

As for the warehouses themselves, they were the most plain and easily-acquired places to use. Private ownership was a common thing so in order to get one just supply a name and the right amount of money. Even then Vale was a city and one of the centers of human civilization so it was constantly growing with buildings being condemned, dismantled, and then replaced with bigger, more efficient complexes so sometimes it was just all about locating such an abandoned place and setting up there.

And other than the shops in the commercial district, the most popular place to store Dust - what the White Fang was looking to acquire - is, you guessed it, warehouses.

Still, this particular one was larger than the others, possessing enough room to accommodate a couple Bullheads when activity had been at its highest. Once Blake returned, she immediately saw a proper physician to look at her injuries.

Her collarbone really wasn't as bad as it could be, something that Blake figured but felt better at having confirmed. Surgery wasn't needed as there was nothing preventing it from healing on its own which would be accelerated when Blake focused her Aura on repairing the damage. The only downside was that she would need to focus solely on that and rest for the next couple of weeks if she wanted to be back in action as soon as possible. Even then, muscle weakness would still set in due to the continued immobilization and she would have to take care of that later.

She got the results of the heist last night. Some Dust was acquired but compared to the loss of three-quarters of the team that she accompanied, the paltry amount they made off with wasn't worth it. Their current situation had them really feeling it as they didn't have anywhere near the manpower that they used to have. Over the months, their numbers and their vast storage of Dust that they collected had all been mostly transferred to their base of operations outside of Vale to the southeast. The majority of the faunus who remained behind were those who preferred to act now against their human oppressors instead of waiting for whatever plan was being formed elsewhere.

Things were going to be quiet for a while. With that in mind, Blake went about her recovery and found herself becoming restless.

That was an unusual thing for her to feel. This was hardly the first time that she's needed extended time to recuperate and, even then, as an assassin she was used to lengthy periods of inaction until her services were called upon. Yet as she lay on a cot, motionless, the bone slowly mending back together, there came interruptions in her concentration which resulted in Blake shifting as much as she could, her gaze sweeping around the small room as if looking for something else to interest her.

As far as she could tell, it used to be a break room for employees to use during shifts before everything nonessential was tossed out and numerous cots were placed to provide sleeping arrangements for members of the White Fang. She was the only one present, her comrades taking on daytime assignments such as scouting for new targets. There was a table in the corner, crumb-covered dishes, pamphlets, and other such miscellaneous items littering the surface.

Blake rested her head back against the flat pillow, eyes staring up towards the ceiling. She closed them, took a deep breath, and focused her Aura at the injury. There came a tingling sensation that was only slightly uncomfortable as tissue began gathering within the fracture where it would toughen up and be reinforced with the fibers that would reconnect the bone. The tingling only lasted a minute after the initial surge, then began to ebb as her body got used to the boost.

It would be a slow process and Blake didn't need to devote her complete attention to it. She found herself opening her eyes again, blowing air out through her nose, and then she was getting up from the cot, grimacing as she moved a little too fast.

She approached the table, using her one good arm to sweep aside a couple of the pamphlets that broadcasted the latest promises that the White Fang offered to those who'd join them. Someone decided to make better use of one of them as a bookmark for the novel that Blake's fingers brushed upon. It had a smooth but rigid cover instead of a thin, papery one.

She had always preferred hardcover books when she was younger. Something about the added weightiness to it in contrast to paperback had a comforting feel that extended from the increased protection of the pages between them as if guarding the fantasies that were held within. She would never forget the feel of it.

But it had been some time since she last enjoyed one. Like a lot of other things in her life, books were something else that she no longer felt anything for. The written fantasies had ceased being comforting and inspiring when her own had expired.

Blake flipped the rectangular shape in order to read the title. _Violet's Garden._

She remembered it being a classic and even had a copy in her collection before she...misplaced them. Strange to find one in the company of faunus radicals. She used her thumb to check the page that was currently marked and read what words she could. Whoever the previous reader was, they hadn't gotten very far and she could remember the scene that was playing out.

The cat faunus returned to the cot with the book remaining in her possession. It was a struggle with one arm but after propping up a leg and resting the novel against it, Blake was able to flip it open to the beginning where she began to read. It was just her acting on an impulse to cure her restlessness while she waited to make a full recovery and she doubted that she would get far before she decided to discard it and find another method. She ended finishing it long before her collarbone did.

* * *

><p>There used to be a lot more activity during the peak of their operations. There would always be at least one Bullhead docked and ramps extended in order to be loaded with Dust, personnel, and other equipment that would then lift off, merge with Vale's daily air traffic, and then break off and head out to the southeast once a window was open. Even with the later inclusion of Atlas and its own nightly patrols - patrols which Ironwood had publicly stated did not exist - having become an added problem, their work slowed down but never ceased.<p>

The warehouse may as well be deserted now. Whereas once there would be dozens of White Fang soldiers either loading such airships or taking stock of their growing inventory which consisted of numerous storage crates packed nearly to the roof, it had been practically emptied out. The last appearance of a Bullhead was days ago and the pilot probably hadn't even felt the weight of what measly cargo was brought into its hold.

The only soldiers that Blake saw were the pair that gave her a wave and an inquiry of when she would finally 'kill that dirty Huntress'. She ignored them as she usually did, leaping up and grabbing the edge of a hanging catwalk before hoisting herself up to rework the muscles that had been weakened.

Her rivalry with Yang was a story that had grown in popularity overtime and was the highlight of the many faunus who had chosen to remain in Vale, seeing it as another battle in their war that would prove the inferiority of humanity when Blake would finally bring a definitive end to it. Despite such a thing having yet to be done with their battles still continuing months after their first, no faunus in the White Fang would ever suspect anything more than just two strong combatants who would be forced to break off from killing each other when authorities or some other circumstances forced one or the other to retreat. Them happening to keep meeting each other over and over again? That was just further evidence of how much they hated each other and many had taken to the belief that Blake was staying in Vale in order to finally kill her golden-haired nemesis with her own hands. Why else would one of their more elite members lower herself to joining in on their heists if not for the chance of crossing paths with a human that she's sworn to kill?

There was even a pool going on. Yang had laughed when Blake mentioned the odds she was getting and to put her down for twenty, swearing that she was good for it.

Blake was surprised when she registered the smile on her face that the memory influenced after hopping from the head of a powersuit once used to lift heavy materials but has been left inactive. She almost missed grasping the rail of the next catwalk.

Having come out here to work out the stiffness and to retrain her body, Blake found that she was accomplishing that and more. Overcoming the lingering debilities didn't explain the extra swing that she added before pulling herself up or the amount of extra force she added in the effort to hold herself upside down over the rail with the limb she was restrengthening, legs splitting to better center herself. A quick bend and push granted her the opportunity to perform an additional twirl before ending in a crouch in the center of the walkway.

Her long recovery could explain this energy as something that had been gathered and contained for too long and needing an outlet. However, she couldn't remember any other time she had felt like this. A return to duty just meant business going on as usual and her sense of duty had withered a long time ago, leaving her no incentive to perform it with any enthusiasm.

Upon straightening and examining her arm, there was only one thing on her mind. Blake stretched the limb as far as it could go, the fingers at the end clenching and unclenching with the imagination of Gambol Shroud's hilt filling the palm. When she rolled her shoulder and bent her arm, it was with the idea of having it slashing with her sword again. Each experimentation carried with it the lure of when she would meet Yang in combat once more.

Instead of going on with her exercise, Blake sat on the catwalk, letting her legs hang over the edge. Along with the decrease in work, there was a decrease in noise, the atmosphere spacious and silent. Her feline ears twitched when one was made but it was slight with her hearing and the empty interior of the warehouse giving it the echo that made it just audible enough. She leaned forward, hands gripping the rail so that she could stare down at her feet and the floor far below them.

The peace accentuated this sense of freedom. With the White Fang having moved everything elsewhere and Blake left with the bare minimum of its influence, she was free to just sit and relax, contemplating her own aims within the tranquility.

She wasn't sure what to do with it. Right now the war may as well have been put on pause. No orders, no targets, no objectives, or anything like that. Such directions were all that she really had and the usual response when bereft of them was to wait and keep waiting until she was supplied with them again. She never felt the urge to try and do anything else. Not like when she picked up that book and not like now.

She just felt like she should do something. When she tried to think of what that would be, the only thing that she came up with was 'not here'. She just wanted to go...out. There was no specific destination in mind but she figured that she could perhaps be settled with a walk through Vale. Go out without her mask and uniform, explore without any ulterior motives. It was something she never really did before but it somehow felt right to her.

Maybe she would run into Yang. The human had been intruding on her thoughts more and more and not in a way that related to their usual tussles. Much like during their last rendezvous, the faunus was entertaining possibilities of what it would be like for the two to stumble upon each other in an ordinary setting rather than one that would lead to hostility. One that didn't involve Blake's comrades-in-arms or Yang's team. Where the talking and jibes came before the fighting instead of the other way around. Would fighting really be necessary? Maybe it was a good time to find out with this impromptu cease fire.

Blake sat there for a minute longer, debating about it with her fingers occasionally flexing over the railing. When they tightened it was with the intention for Blake to slide off the walkway and make the high but quick journey to the floor.

She was interrupted when a loud klaxon broke through the silence of the warehouse, reverberating throughout the building and causing her ears to reflexively flatten in an effort to dampen the noise. Blake recognized the sound as an alert that went off to inform personnel of the impending arrival of an incoming vessel and shortly after it began the large doors off to the side began to slide open.

_Was this scheduled?_ Blake wondered. She hadn't heard anything about it.

In response to this turn of events, Blake kept her position on the catwalk and brought herself to her feet instead. The doors had only just finished sliding and locking in place before the bulky fuselage of a Bullhead lowered into sight and began hovering straight into the hangar with the use of its tilting jet engines. The doors began closing behind it once it was clear.

The arrival brought some life back to the building as not only did the pair of uniformed faunus that Blake saw earlier begin to move frantically but they were joined by a few others. It wasn't looking like this was a scheduled arrival and she spotting one person in particular arriving on the scene soon confirmed it.

"Will someone so kindly _turn that off_!?" Roman Torchwick shouted over the ongoing alert, following it up with an over exaggerated "Thank you!" when it was silenced.

Blake quietly watched the criminal and began following him from up high, her curiosity piqued, with both their paths leading them straight to the landing Bullhead. The pilot presented the side of the airship towards the approaching criminal before killing the engines, the hatch lifting open soon after. The silencing of the klaxon and engines let Blake hear the irritated grumblings of the criminal.

"Get the kids out of the house, expecting a nice and pleasant evening, and now I get this," Roman muttered. Once he was close enough to the Bullhead he raised his voice. "Not that I don't like surprises - actually, no; I really hate them. I have a strict limit of one per lifetime and that was used up quite a while ago. So with that said, I hope you or whoever it is that sent you has a really good explanation for this little..._oh_..."

A figure had stepped out of the airship during the man's rant and it petered out when he saw them. With her position overhead, Blake couldn't see the arrival due to the Bullhead's wing concealing them. Knowing that it'd be pointless to change position, Blake stayed where she was and waited for the individual to step out and reveal themselves.

"There's an exception for everything," Roman spoke, no longer sounding confident. Actually, he sounded nervous. For as long as she's seen the criminal here, there's only been one person who could intimidate him and, other than Blake, there were quite a few stories surrounding the woman in the red dress - particularly her recent disappearance.

This wasn't her. As soon as she cleared the wing, Blake quietly leaned over to get a better look, eyes squinting. What she saw made them widen considerably.

The hair. Long, curly. It fell down her back, swaying behind her in a very familiar way as she approached Roman. The criminal was tapping the end of his cane against the floor nervously and became frighteningly still when she reached him.

Blake couldn't see her face until she turned her head towards him, presenting a side profile that was more than enough for the faunus. Other than the hair having lost some of its shine, there were slight creases and wrinkles at the skin of her weathered face.

Those were signs of age that had been absent in the photo that Yang carried on her scroll.

Catching something at her peripheral, the woman turned her head and looked up to where Blake was standing but the faunus had already vanished.

* * *

><p><em> It had been during one of their nights when Blake discovered that Yang wasn't as invincible as she may seem. Although their meetings could always be considered as chance, this night it was particularly so as the human had been in the middle of a joyride on her motorcycle while Blake had been scoping out the latest security measures and patrol patterns that the VPD began implementing throughout the commercial district.<em>

_ They ended up in a park of all things; one of the few areas in Vale that protected and encouraged nature to thrive in order to give city-dwellers a taste of the beauty of the natural world that was beyond the protection of their walls and other barriers that kept the Grimm out. In the case of Blake and Yang, it became a site of what would be their most intense battle._

_ There would never be another one like it._

_ The moon hung over the two fighters, sprinkling the dark sky with its scattered debris which was fitting considering their surroundings as the portion of the park that they stood in had been set ablaze. Located where the flames seemed to be the tallest and brightest was Yang, standing as an indomitable warrior forged from fire and gold. In contrast, Blake was more like the monster that such warriors did battle with as the smoke of the conflagration blew downwind, partially shrouding and warping her form to give her more fearsome characteristics. The Grimm mask had never seemed so monstrous, overshadowing her human mouth and chin with dark fangs and bright lenses that glinted menacingly. With ears drawn back and Gambol Shroud extended, she was less like a cat and more like a beast with claws bared._

_ And just like any beast, Blake struck first, black and gold meeting together as sword and sheath impacted against the protective gauntlets. With Ember Celica held over her head to keep Gambol Shroud from descending fully, the only thing Yang could do was glare up at Blake, her red but soul-filled eyes locking with cold and empty amber glass. The faunus's clenched jaw betrayed how much power she was devoting to the struggle yet Yang remained unshakeable. _

_ It was the Huntress who broke the engagement, pushing forward to drive Blake back with the agent unable to do anything but retreat. The blonde immediately pressed with a flurry of punches and they were ones that Blake's dual weapons worked to divert, blades smacking against the armored forearms while head and body twisted so that the knuckles would miss their intended target with the following flares streaking all across the landscape._

_ A quick use of her Semblance had Blake appearing at her opponent's side, putting some of the momentum behind a roundhouse kick. Yang had become well accustomed to the faunus's capacity to reposition and attack in such a manner by this point, not only bringing an arm up to block the attack but immediately turning and using the other to do the same to the faunus's sword when Blake was suddenly at her opposite side._

_ Over the clashing of metal and deafening reports of gunfire, Blake barely picked up on the sound of sirens; currently far into the distance but that would change soon. They always ran the risk of someone stumbling upon them during their encounters but since activating her Semblance and setting a small acre of the park alight – a little property damage had never seemed to be that big of a concern for Yang -, a time limit had been added and the White Fang agent could practically feel the minutes dwindling down to the seconds. They were lucky enough that a Huntsman or Huntress hadn't been drawn in, those warriors usually more concerned with Grimm but one wouldn't ignore this if they were around._

_ It was breathtaking and Blake didn't just mean that for when Yang landed two quick but powerful jabs that knocked her away. Dropping low, she leaned heavily against her sword and sheath, her weapons having been stabbed into the ground to prevent her from collapsing fully. The burning of nearby shrubbery made the air hot and oppressive with each gasp of air a struggle. The sirens continued to draw closer, threatening to end their match earlier than Blake desired._

_ But this couldn't end, especially not yet. Although strong, those latest blows lacked the full firepower of Ember Celica. When Blake forced her head to rise, it was to see Yang already fetching a couple rolls of ammunition._

_ Blake claimed one more breath and it was one that was short and clearly inadequate but she demanded her body to keep going. Gambol Shroud responded to her will with less resistance, her sword transforming and the faunus hurled it towards Yang, the now bent blade tearing through one of the rolls of ammo and sending destroyed shells raining onto the grass. When Blake pulled on the ribbon, the built-in pistol discharged another round with deft handwork directing the weapon to the other roll in Yang's hand._

_ Blake needed every advantage that she could get in order to triumph. With one hand holding the end of her ribbon, the second at the middle, Blake pressed home with this one as Gambol Shroud spun all around her and repeatedly lashed out at Yang. To her immense satisfaction, Yang began retreating, her gauntlets barely able to catch each lightning-quick delivery. One arrived too late and too low and Yang's head jerked to the side at Gambol Shroud cracking against her cheek._

_ Blake had been waiting for a moment like this. Whenever she used her Semblance, Yang always seemed so strong, so powerful. Although she had once thought that perseverance and time would reward her with an opening such as this, she could hardly believe that it arrived. At the same time though, she had to curse at it being this fight that was in danger of being interrupted before she could capitalize on it._

_ The faunus sent Gambol Shroud directly into Yang's exposed middle, doubling her over. Another shot from her weapon not only returned it to her but carried it into another swing that Yang was able to twist away from but not without stumbling._

_ She had her. She _had her._ It reverberated repeatedly within her consciousness, the thought keeping her going through the smoke that tainted the air she breathed, the heat that her body sweltered in, the muscles that fought and protested against each exertion that further strained them. It kept her going, Gambol Shroud twisting all around her with each recoil sending it into a blur of dizzying motion that her hands nonetheless managed to control and direct into constant slashes at the blonde brawler._

_ The sirens had to be in human hearing range by now. The coiled feeling of anticipation grew tighter within Blake's stomach, encouraging another attack that struck at Yang's leg._

_ She had her. She had her._

_ Gambol Shroud returned to her hand, blade flipping back up. She regained her sheath and a shadow clone came in existence to boost her right towards Yang. Her opponent raised her arms to defend and Blake transferred all the power she could muster into her sheath, an underhand slash that beat against Ember Celica and lifted it just enough to create an opening._

_ She. Had. _Her!

_ Blake stabbed forward with her sword, the blade slipping beneath the golden plates with the tip seeking for a direct shot at Yang's Aura._

_ It wasn't there. Even when lost in her assault, Blake noted in that split second when her weapon crossed where the barrier should be that it wasn't. She was much too late to act on it for as soon as she registered it, Gambol Shroud had already pierced through the leather of Yang's jacket before doing the same to her body._

_ Blake was face-to-face with Yang when the human's arms dropped away, revealing her mouth and eyes - both wide with shock and pain. The fire had died out in her hair but with her face so close to Blake's and her staring into the faunus's Grimm mask, Blake could see how the one in her eyes began to do the same as red reverted to lilac. Then something else began to be extinguished, those bright purples dulling as Yang sunk to her knees._

_ Gambol Shroud slipped from Blake's limp grip, the human taking the sword with her as she dropped. Blake could only watch, frozen where she stood. Excitement and a sense of victory had swiftly been replaced with horror, the agent's mouth similarly hanging open._

_ Her sword remained embedded in Yang, right beneath her breast. Blood was already spilling out of the wound, wetting and painting her jacket with its color. Something was wrong. When she saw it, Blake believed it was a trick of the night but it was when the human's blood was trickling down the peach-colored skin of her stomach that Blake saw the undisputable proof._

_ Black. The blood wasn't red; it was __black. __Black as Gambol Shroud which droplets now dripped from._

_ Yang was looking up at her and Blake realized with dread at what the human must be seeing: the cold, expressionless mask that hid how her own pair of ambers were just as huge with the shock and regret of what she had done. A need to show Yang that this wasn't on purpose, that this wasn't a betrayal as it may look like, Blake's hands went to her mask to pull it off._

_ Something stopped her. Amongst the ash and cinders, something else began showering the faunus. They fluttered within the wind, red like the blood that Yang should be bleeding but wasn't._

_ They were rose petals._

_ Blake detected a presence behind her. She slowly turned, hands dropping away, and found the hooded form of a reaper - scythe and all. Those rose petals seemed to be produced from the long cape of the same color, the fabric flapping around the diminutive form of this red and black specter._

_ It didn't come to claim Yang. Instead, when this reaper brandished its scythe and came speeding forward, more of the petals being left in its wake, it went straight for Blake._

* * *

><p>The air still carried the stench of cigars despite how Roman had yet to return to the room in the last few hours. In fact, he wouldn't be returning at all. Shortly after the appearance of their unexpected guest, the man had taken the same Bullhead out from their hideout but not without issuing some last minute orders to the remaining White Fang members.<p>

He had left with _her_.

Blake leaned back in the padded chair, one of the several luxuries that the criminal had pilfered for himself when he had taken over - fittingly enough - an office to manage and lead his faunus underlings. An ashtray was positioned at a corner of the desk, a fair amount of stubs having been gathered within it to the point of overflowing. At the other corner was the white mask that was meant to imitate a feline, the gold lenses directed towards the faunus.

Right in the center of the lacquered wood was a scroll. Stored within its hard drive was not just one picture but several, all of them taken with precision and care to get clear, distinguishable images of the subject while making sure that the photographer wouldn't get caught in the act.

Blake had chosen this spot for the peace of seclusion. Outside of this little office, her comrades have been spurned into renewed action. They were packing up. Messages - whether through technological means or otherwise - were being sent out, calling all White Fang agents throughout Vale to return to base. Those in the warehouse were taking stock of equipment and inventory, deciding on what they can bring with and what they can leave behind. Any databases were being purged of all sensitive information.

Torchwick had informed them all that one last flight of Bullheads would be arriving late at night, intending for a stealthy but speedy evacuation. Take what was only necessary, leave any heavy equipment or whatever may slow them down behind. Dust, for once, was optional. It was not about ordnance anymore - they were going to have plenty of that where they were going -, but the personnel needed to use it.

It seemed that the war that had been on hold was about to resume with some added escalation. Their destination was the southeast, a location that had been repeatedly mentioned as where the White Fang and its members will truly be allowed to conduct the fight that they've always wanted. The specifics had never been disclosed and even Blake didn't know what was being planned at the ruins of Mountain Glenn. The most of what she had been told was a cryptic statement from Adam, that being that the site of Vale's greatest failure shall become the stepping stone to the kingdom's ultimate downfall.

That wasn't what was on Blake's mind though and it wasn't why she had come here. What she was actually contemplating was pretty trivial in comparison but it plagued her all the same.

The scroll seemed like such an insignificant thing. Convenience being one of the hallmarks of technology, it was thin and light – more so than any book. Yet the few bytes that Blake had chosen to donate to her endeavor had given it a heaviness that exceeded the thickest of tomes. As did the knowledge that burdened her conscience.

_ This could destroy her._

Blake knew what she had. Knew what it could do. Even if she didn't know the specifics, she had seen how Yang had looked at the woman in the photo and knew that she was at least important to her. She was someone who gave her hope and purpose.

But she couldn't have been expecting this.

Yang's words came back to haunt her about how she said that she should be glad that the faunus didn't know the woman considering what it could potentially mean if she did. How dreadfully true. If Blake was right, the girl would undergo exactly what she had once been forced to go through: when the dream that you always desired to become real did so with the cruelest twist of betrayal.

_ If_ she was told about it.

The sound of metal sliding against metal announced the appearance of Gambol Shroud. Once it cleared the sheath, Blake flipped the blade in hand so that the tip was pointing down. She slowly lowered it until it tapped against the thin screen.

She could easily delete the pictures but it was something more than just the White Fang's policy that stressed basic but thorough methods of destruction that made this one more appealing. Stab into the scroll, slice it into tiny pieces, leave nothing that someone could recover and restore the data from.

It was the easy answer. It was a _coward's _answer.

While the White Fang may be at risk now that another benefactor had been unveiled and caught on scroll, Blake supplementing her argument with the welfare of her group was a wasted effort. The only one who was involved, the only one who Blake was concerned about, was Yang.

_Destroy it,_ came the instinctive answer again. _You know what will come from this._

Memories of the human girl flashed through Blake's mind. How she'd always be grinning arrogantly, ready and raring to go to take anything that the faunus would throw at her. She always seemed so strong and confident, devoid of any worries.

But she wasn't invincible. Blake had nearly killed her once when one of their fights had gotten out of hand and now she had something that could potentially do a better job than her sword. It could bring her down and never allow her to get up again.

Then the answer should be to destroy the scroll. Never let this secret come anywhere near Yang. Even if this was something that the blonde wanted, she couldn't possibly predict that this would be what she would find. People who pursued such things rarely did. Blake didn't. Sometimes ignorance really was bliss.

Then, what? Say she did destroy all evidence of this, would that magically be the end of it? _She _was still out there and _she _clearly had some kind of part to play with what was being planned for the kingdom. Yang could still end up crossing paths with her, possibly in the middle of a battle that had her life hinging on the outcome.

Blake explored the other option: tell Yang. Meet with her, show her the pictures, and what may happen will happen. It will happen in a setting that Blake will choose, where Yang would be free to react however she may wish, and then come to terms with it. At least in that way her life will not be in danger and it will be Blake who would be the one to have her find out.

Gambol Shroud rose an inch, the tip wavering over the scroll.

That scenario brought up another question that was almost troubling Blake as much as the other: why did she care?

Why did all this even matter to her? Why did feel the urge to take her scroll and record these images? She shouldn't be so conflicted by this but she was. Yang was a human, she was a faunus. Officially, they were enemies who were supposed to fight and kill one another. Tonight, Blake was to get on an airship and be delivered to where the rest of her comrades were gathered. Then the war would begin and the next time they crossed each other, their fight really would be one to the death.

Or Blake may never see her again. Either one of them or both of them could die in the opening stages, never to meet again depending on one's belief of an afterlife. Whichever may happen, whatever ties that bound them would be severed which included any concerns that they shouldn't be having in the first place.

_But could I really look her in the eye if I hid this from her and did see her again?_

They've fought each other. They've done so numerous times. They've never killed each other but what kind of relationship was that when they'd beat one another until one of them couldn't go on only to meet again and repeat the process?

It didn't mean anything. It was just a distraction for the both of them and one that they were willing to indulge in even if it meant sneaking away from their respective sides to do so. Blake was just using this to pass the time for when the actual war would begin. Yang, she now saw, was only doing this until the day came where she would find what she was looking for.

Blake slid Gambol Shroud back into its sheath and she rose from the chair.

Fine. If that was what Yang wanted, then Blake would give it to her. It would be a final parting gift to remove any misunderstandings that may've come between them. If there was one thing that they both hated, it was for either of them to be inhibited in any way for their next battle.

Blake snatched the scroll from the table with one hand, her mask in the other. Once she had them she made her way to the door, shoving and having it swinging out to slam into the wall. As she passed it, she paused and did a double-take at the glass paneling that formed the top half. Beneath the half stricken name of whoever used this office last, right on the glass, was Blake's reflection. The dirty surface blurred it and for just a moment the cat ears that were on top of the faunus's head had looked less like ears and more like a bow.

Blake stood where she was until the door made a squeaky return to its proper resting place. Once it did so, Blake resumed walking, throwing on the mask and hood to not only hide her ears but that look of uncertainty that she had also seen on the glass.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Yep, you can probably guess the origins of my idea, that being where Yang reveals to Blake about her parentage. With me having written _Black Fang_ not too long ago – and swearing that I wouldn't add more to it -, I ended up getting the idea of what a White Fang Blake would do if she came across information about Yang's mother and her possibly on the side of the bad guys.

To be fair, I kind of doubt this exact scenario happening. In fact, as I mentioned before, most of this chapter wasn't supposed to happen which included this mystery woman's appearance. However, while I'm not a doom and gloomer, I do hold an opinion of a 65% chance of when Yang does learn about her mother, it won't be good news. Already I feel like I'm seeing hints of what may come, specifically from the recent episodes. We all know that Qrow is on the case concerning the baddies but, a few episodes ago, we had Taiyang sending the team Zwei because he was going to be leaving Patch for a few days. Him having to go somewhere just as the plans of the baddies are coming to fruition and him and Qrow having been on the same team along with Summer and Yang's mom…just seems suspicious to me.

But suspicions that have a good chance of being disproven could make good ideas and I'll let you guys decide if this is a good one or not despite its rushy nature. While you do that, I'm going to be waiting for the next episode for RWBY to be released in less than two hours because, unlike some of the plebeians out there, I am a sponsor! Muwahahahahaha!


	3. Turnout

It_ wasn't supposed to be like this._

_ With the rear ramp having been lowered, Blake was exposed to the cold draft that blew into the Bullhead, causing her to shudder. She could hear the steady rhythm of the engines as the airship remained in a stable hover and no matter how much she desperately willed the pilots to feed more power to them and get them out of here, they remained unchanged._

_ So too did the view down below: the red forest of Forever Fall. The trees and mountains stretched out all around them, almost constant and seemingly never ending. However, right down the middle was the railway; a thin, black line that was drawn through the red expanse._

_ The similarly-black train rested right in the center, immobile._

_ It was only supposed to be about the Dust. That was all that they were supposed to have come here for. That was what they told her._

_ "Blake."_

_ No. No, they had it. They had the Dust. They should just go. There was nothing else they needed to do._

_ Her legs dangled over the edge and a slight tilt of the airship could've ended with her sliding off if not for the arm that was around her middle, pinning one of her own limbs to her side while her back was flush against him. As for her other arm, it was held out in front of her, her fingers clasped around the thin metal shape of the detonator._

_The safety flap was up, leaving nothing between her raised thumb and the red button beneath it._

_ "They're not innocent," he spoke, the wind and engines doing little to mute the words that reached both her ears._

_ She wanted to believe that. Anything to convince her that the people she encountered when she went further up the train weren't just crew members who were just scared because of the fighting that had interrupted what should've been an otherwise normal day for them. A day meant to begin and end with a simple delivery from one point to the next like the countless ones they had before it. That was probably all it was to them and hadn't even given a second thought about what they were carrying._

_ They had been scared and confused when she found them huddled in the compartment that she would've walked by had she not heard them. She should've ignored it. She should've kept moving on to the locomotive and pretended not to hear anything as what did she expect to happen when they saw a girl - faunus or not - with a sword drawn?_

_ "We can't leave any witnesses behind," Adam spoke again. "They know your face. You killed one of them."_

_ She thought it was yet another android that they missed or some other last line of defense. She had detected danger right behind her while contemplating what to do, had reacted, and it was only after hot blood had splashed upon her blade and face that she realized her error. The danger had been another human who had come out to help his friends, armed with nothing but an iron rod which Gambol Shroud effortlessly cut through before doing the same to him._

_ Even when she had stepped back and the rest went to him, he was already as good as dead. There was already so much blood pooling around him and the hurried hands and cloths that were applied were nowhere near enough to cover the split open stomach. Beneath them, something uncoiled and bulged through the empty space.  
><em>

_ "You can even consider it as a kindness," he continued speaking. "They can't call for help and it's too far away. The Grimm will be drawn to them sooner or later."_

_ They had been desperately shouting and slapping at his face, trying to keep him awake, and all they got was a disgustingly wet cough that had blood dribbling down from his lips to chin. One had turned to her, calling her a murderer with another joining in soon after, and what could she do to deny that when there was that wet and warm evidence stuck to her palm and features?_

_ She did the only thing she could do: she ran. The shouts followed her, reminding her of what she did, and even if she wanted to place her hands over her ears she would only be able to block one pair while the other still heard her crime. They only stopped when she exited the car, the doors closing behind her, and she made sure they would stay that way when she turned and slashed again with her sword, sparks flying as she destroyed the control mechanism to jam it shut._

_ When she turned around, it was to see Adam waiting for her, his head down in order to stare at her bloodstained blade._

_ "This is the first step. There's no going back now."_

_ If only she did something different. Not just pretend to not have heard the humans but to have never entered the car at all. She already had an idea of what was going to happen, Adam mentioning the charges beforehand and his dismissive response when she questioned him about the fate of the crew members. She knew firsthand about how the White Fang had changed, how _he _had changed, but she didn't want to believe that this would happen to her._

_ But here they were and it was too late to escape. Adam's arm was constricted around her, keeping her in place, and even if she did escape from his grip there was nowhere for her to run. His one hand engulfed her own, forcing her to keep the detonator in her grasp while the careful manipulation of one finger positioned her thumb over the button but giving her enough room to accomplish the rest herself._

_ They called her a murderer and she knew she had to have been made one by now. All that blood...he had to have bled out. His friends left with a corpse, all of them locked inside and wondering what was going to happen to them, not knowing about how their lives were only a couple inches from being incinerated. Maybe they were even beginning to believe that they had been spared._

_ Adam's grip couldn't completely suppress the shaking of Blake's hand, her thumb twitching._

_ She had never killed anyone before. It was more than just the value of a person's life that she understood but to not kill always made her feel like she had another option. Even if this was the only life she had known, to be clean meant that she could integrate into society in case the White Fang did succeed in its goals...or if she decided she could no longer uphold their violent methods._

_ But she's taken a life and she had never felt as different to anyone else as she did now. She had always been convinced that she could one day be seen as the same as everyone else; that one day it won't matter if she had an extra set of ears and people would accept her. But to accept the death of an innocent? How could she ever expect there to be a place for her now?_

I'm just like them now.

_"We're just waiting for you, Blake."_

_ And just what was he waiting for? Adam didn't tighten his grip but the cat faunus found it difficult to breathe. Her heart was racing, so much that it hurt, and the breaths she took seemed nowhere near enough. She swallowed hard, desperately trying to get the vice around her chest to lax only to resume gasping for breath._

_ She suddenly wanted Gambol Shroud but she left it deeper in the hold, the blood still drying on the blade when Adam brought her here and forced the detonator in her hand. She had the terrifying imagination of Adam pushing her off the edge if she waited too long._

But I killed one. It was an accident but I killed one. Why is he making me do this?

_ She was a killer. Over and over the word 'murderer' went through her mind, the title being spoken with such hate and terror that the humans had felt in her presence._

_ They were still down there. They were down there and they were all already dead. Their deaths, she now knew, had always been the intention along with the Dust. It didn't matter if she hadn't been here or not; they had been slated for it._

But it's not supposed to be me, _she thought with growing despair._ Not now. Not ever. I never wanted to do this.

Didn't _she? She stayed. She had become surrounded by people she knew who became killers yet she stayed. One-by-one they took that step to slaughter but not her. Somehow, even as she kept going, she became deluded with the thought that she could remain unsullied. How did it not dawn on her that it wasn't about being the last one to hold onto their original ideals for equality but the last one who was to fall?_

_ "Blake."_

_ She sucked down another breath, his tone beginning to sound impatient. She wondered if the shift she felt of his arm was really her imagining him getting ready to release and leave her._

_ Sweat slid down her face. Bile rose up in her throat, choking her._

They're dead. If I don't, he will.

But I don't want to.

I already did. All it takes is one. All that matters is one.

It was an accident.

I'm a murderer. That's what they called me. That's what I am. I'm already lost.

_ Damned if she did, damned if she didn't. The only difference is that, if she didn't, she wouldn't even have the White Fang anymore. Adam would abandon her, she just knew it, and she would have nowhere to go. Even if she killed one, if she didn't kill the rest she would be forsaken. Left alone with no place to go._

Push it.

_Her thumb lowered._

I don't...I can't...

Push it!

_Adam pulled his head away, his breath leaving her. His arm loosened. "Bl-"_

_ The rest of her name was drowned out by the explosion. The train erupted below them as the charges went off, detonating along the length of it. The box cars were ripped open, fire spraying outwards while the flatbeds were lifted, the exposed cargo flying everywhere._

_ The rail supports buckled and bent before snapping entirely. Without them, the line itself collapsed beneath the weight of the train. At the epicenter, the tracks gave way beneath the middle cars which soon followed them down, dragging the others with them. The screeching of the brakes grabbing fruitlessly to the remaining tracks were just another portion of the choir that spelled the demise of the rest of the train._

_ The locomotive was the last to go, lifting and then descending down the destroyed tracks, joining the twisted and flaming wreckage that crushed and set fire to a wide expanse of Forever Fall. Secondary explosions were initiated, complete with the Dust that they didn't take. Burn Crystals added similar carnage but Electric ones sent out bolts of lightning that reached out to split trees and set additional fires to the forest. Freeze Dust froze a few cars in ice with Force further ripping them apart. Nature caused the surrounding earth to quake and open up as if to swallow what it could while vines and roots extended to pull it down and add more to the flaming pyre._

_ The observing Bullhead wobbled in the wake of the initial blast but the pilots had steadied it in time to give Blake a perfect view of it all. She didn't blink, didn't make a sound or thought throughout the whole thing. She started to breathe again, untroubled, but she didn't seem aware of it._

_ Her thumb kept the button of the detonator depressed. It was only removed when Adam finally let go of her hand and the device slipped free of her limp fingers. Blake slumped forward and watched the detonator drop._

_ It disappeared from her sight but, in its place, she caught movement within the forest's depths. Black silhouettes slipped in and out amongst the foliage, all of them heading towards the catastrophe. The Grimm have arrived, attracted to this debacle that she had caused in order to see for themselves if they could come up with any scraps that she may've left behind for them._

_ Only then did the Bullhead begin flying away, putting Blake in danger once again of falling from the airship completely. But that arm tightened and brought her in. Accepting her. Welcoming her._

_ And right in her ears, Adam quietly praised, "Well done."_

_ She was as dead to the words as she was to the rest of the world that day forward._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>In case anyone's been wondering what I've been up to, I do use my profile for status updates if I vanish for a rather long length of time. Long story short, been getting a lot of work in response to the holidays and leaving me very little time to write. I am writing though and I managed to score a couple free days to get some serious writing done for the finale of _Burnout_. This was actually supposed to be the beginning of that chapter - which has currently reached 9k words - but, after over a month of having not posted anything, I decided to throw up this little teaser piece as it involves something that I'm sure many people have wondered: that being what if things had taken a turn for the worst for Blake during the Black Trailer.

I mean I'm sure you'll appreciate this more than turning this into an update chapter like some authors do. As for when I expect to get the finale done, at the latest I predict it to be around the end of December. Maybe I'll get lucky and the finale will become a nice little Christmas chapter for you to read while opening presents and celebrating with family, lol.

Until then.


	4. Damn or Save

**Author's Note: **Welp, was struggling to finish this chapter on New Year's Day but…meh, was one or two hours late on that. Ah well. In either case, Happy Late New Years! For another added lateness, it was also TigerLilly22's birthday a couple days so happy late birthday to her! In case any of you haven't (which would be crazy), make sure to check out her Bumblebee workz as they're definitely one of the best ones out there. Always like to give shout-outs to fellow worker bees of the Bumblebums!

Anyway, this be the last chapter. And this is also the chapter where I tried my hand at some sex. Whether you think it's good or terrible, I probably won't be doing something like that again for a long time. So if you thought it was good, too bad! If you think it's terrible, don't worry, I'm not gonna do it again.

Time to add another completed fic to my list! And another that became longer than I planned on *sigh* 

* * *

><p>It really did look like something taken straight out of an old fantasy book. The high towers that pointed up towards the sky with the tallest one being the closest to touching the full moon overhead. Alongside the lunar body and amongst the stars, the suspended spheres within that tower glowed a dull green. Beneath them were the arches that surrounded the vicinity of the combat school as if walls but they didn't block the sight of the stone walkways that cut through a courtyard maintaining aspects of nature with ponds, grass, trees, and bushes that were allowed to grow freely.<p>

Off at the edge of the cliff where Beacon was situated were the line of landing pads but none of the three Atlesian-manufactured warships were making use of them, instead hovering over the water lane that connected Beacon to Vale. They were long, sharp-nosed vessels that looked like floating blades ready to stab forward at a moment's notice.

Beacon and the waiting battlegroup stood in defense of the city that lay spread out just beyond. A city that was bright and alive even long into the night and home to what had to be millions of people. All of them were safe and protected from the harshness of the rest of the world that dwelled within the black territories that were the home of beasts.

This included Blake. Though she was no Grimm, she peered at the combat school from the shadows as if she were a prowling Beowolf complete with the mask. And, if she was ever spotted, she would probably be dispensed as one.

It hadn't been too difficult to sneak onto the academy's grounds. Stowaway within one of the evening flights from Vale to Beacon where there would be the least number of passengers and crew at their least attentive and then immediately move from the landing pad to the outskirts of the school where rolling hills and some forestry gave her plenty of spots to hide with the coming of night. Once she settled down in such a spot, she had taken out her scroll and sent a message to Yang.

She had uncovered and memorized Yang's number during one of their after-battle 'breaks'. Despite such obvious ideas that would come with the action, it was more of the value of having such a direct line of communication on hand rather than the chance of actually using it that influenced Blake to take Yang's scroll when she had been passed out. This would be the first time she ever used it, directing Yang to walk in the direction in which she was waiting for her and to do so alone.

_[I'll see you.]_ She had typed that at the end, both as a warning and as a hint to who the messenger was. To give her additional help, she had signed off the message as 'Black'. When Yang replied, it wasn't so much the fact that she did that surprised Blake but how she did so.

_ [I'll be there.]_

Blake had stared at the short response for a good minute. It wasn't a refusal, it wasn't a demand for answers, or any kind of reply that would've been laced with suspicion. It was just that short sentence that seemed to resonate such..._trust_.

Placing her scroll back on her person, Blake resumed inspecting everything that she was supposed to be against. It had never dawned on her as it did now as to the scale of what kind of conflict the White Fang desired and what has become increasingly likely to happen. With her indifferent nature, limiting herself to the targets that she was assigned to kill, the term 'war' had never held such significance to her, especially with her rivalry of Yang occupying a portion of her time.

Beacon, while the most prestigious combat school, was only one out of many while the warships were only a fraction of the numbers of the Atlesian air fleets. And Vale was just one kingdom with three more being planned to fall right after it. _If _the White Fang prevailed here.

The odds as to how her group could possibly do so have never bothered her. She would just be pointed in a direction, given a name or face, and she would go to work only to return for the process to repeat itself. It was a lifestyle that she had found herself in and quietly accepted that that would be all that her life was going to be until it inevitably came to an end. Win or lose, she would continue.

It wasn't the odds that were on her mind or the combatants she was destined to face. When she viewed Vale, she wondered about its people.

The White Fang were on their way to light the spark that would ignite the powder keg that was Vale, their intents being to plunge the entirety of Remnant into a conflict that had the potential to completely remake it. Specifically, it would be remade into a world where humanity was dead and gone and the balance of power would tip towards the faunus. That city off in the distance could end up burned to the ground, erasing any traces of humankind in a way that the Grimm have always desired but would be accomplished by the monsters that humans had inadvertently created.

People will die; human and faunus. But not only will it be the Hunters of Beacon, the soldiers of Atlas, and the assassins and would-be revolutionaries of the White Fang that would die, but the countless innocents that would be caught in the crossfire. And with their revolution in sight, Blake knew firsthand that the White Fang would give no quarter to even their own kind. They've already killed former comrades who have renounced their loyalty - Blake herself had killed two - and those who won't pick a side in the coming conflict may as well turn against them since their leaders will see it as a preference to remain under human rule.

That's not just how it will be but how it's always been so Blake shouldn't be concerned about it. Yet, looking at Vale, thinking of faunus like the gazelle faunus who helped her, and the humans whose only crime was ignorance of how bad the animosity between their two races was-

_Just like them. Just like her._

There came a slight grimace, Blake briefly touching the side of her head. It didn't hurt, not exactly, but there was this sensation akin to her mind being too overloaded with conflicting thoughts that she couldn't keep up with. That was something she had experienced numerous times before, back when she struggled to come to terms with what she and the White Fang were becoming, trying to justify it, only to truly understand that there was no 'just' answer.

Back then she had thought like many before that it was the humans who were at fault. They had tried to do things peacefully but, in exchange, humans had treated them as ungrateful animals. It was so tempting, so _easy_, to just give in and show those same humans of what kind of animals they can really be and the reason they've done so was because of the mistreatment that the faunus have been forced to undergo because of them.

But did that make them all guilty? When the attacks began, when the killing really started, was it really warranted? They targeted the ones in control but there were others who died simply by association. Did they deserve it?

Her side argued that they did. One of the reasons it came to this was because they didn't do anything whether because they hated the faunus or just didn't care about them. They may not have directly thrown those stones that have struck several faunus or condemned them to lives of servitude but the fact that they weren't doing anything to stop it meant they might as well have.

They just wanted to live their lives though. They may not have cared because they thought it didn't concern them and didn't harbor any true hatred to the faunus. Ignorance being no excuse was another such easy response but when you think of how people have worked to obtain their own measure of peace, only to have it all turned upside down, was it really that justifiable?

Those crewmembers didn't know. They worked for Schnee Dust but did that mean they hated faunus and not because they just wanted a job? Did they really deserve to be blown up when Blake-

_ Stop it._ Blake had her eyes squeezed shut, her nails digging into her scalp. _Stop thinking._

It was hard though and she didn't know why it was. If equality had really been hopeless, what of the faunus who had established themselves in Vale and the other kingdoms? They got a chance despite the human-centric councils and Blake knew of faunus and humans who have been able to engage in marriage. Was it really all right to tear their lives apart because of those who hadn't been given that same chance? True, there were so many more who were being oppressed, who had spent years working to obtain it only to be spurned at every turn, but was it really selfish to just forsake all that work and choose force?

Sometimes that was what it took. There have been revolutions in the past, people who have once been labeled as traitors and rebels and terrorists only to be known as heroes when their battles succeeded and whatever crimes they committed were pardoned in the wake of the changes they implemented. The most horrific of sins became necessary steps for a better future in history.

But must war always be necessary for this kind of change? Faster, perhaps, maybe even more effective, but must it always be the answer?

It was only eighty years ago that such a war had been completed and established the ruling bodies they had today so what right did they have to denounce the White Fang's efforts when those governments had been made through the exact same methods only to oppress another group of people?

They weren't fighting for equal rights anymore though. They wanted to wipe out humanity. Anyone who got in the way would die even if it were faunus who didn't want to fight or humans like those crewmembers who had only wanted to live and-

_ I DON'T CARE!_

The declaration, as explosive as the charges she triggered, was enough to snap Blake out of it, the cat faunus jerking her head back out of the mental hold that had momentarily returned her to someplace that made her sick to her stomach. What had thinking such things ever led her to?

They were absent now and to make sure they stayed that way Blake took another look at what had influenced those troublesome thoughts. This time, instead of thinking of the people who would be affected by what she and her comrades were doing, she asked herself what possible place there was for her in any of this.

Nowhere. Those people who she concerned herself with would only call her a monster and the guardians who defended them saw her as one that needed to be slain if she was ever to reveal herself to them.

This really was a fantasy story and she really was the monster that was regularly featured in them. Monsters were only meant to terrorize the local populace until some hero rises up to the challenge to slay them, earning the love and respect from the citizens that they guarded. The demise of such a creature was meant to be celebrated, never mourned for.

Blake's hand shifted down so that her fingers could touch her mask. The cold and solid feeling of the metal spread from her fingertips to circulate throughout the rest of her, entombing the doubt within the dark recesses of her mind as the veil did to her own humanity.

It was at that moment that she spotted the solitary figure that had crested over the hill and was now descending down it, steadily coming towards Blake's position. Instead of stepping fully out from behind the bush that hid her, Blake sank down further to better hide while she inspected the arrival as they drew closer.

The hair was the biggest identifying mark of course, those ringlets Blake would be able to recognize anywhere at this point, including in the middle of the night. They shifted with the movements of her head, the girl vainly attempting to spot Blake but her eyesight was far from suitable. She came dressed in her usual combat attire of brown leathers and the faunus could see Ember Celica at her wrists.

The gauntlets were not out and ready for a fight though. Instead, they were currently inert and Yang didn't seem too inclined to use them anytime soon. Although she was surrounded by darkness, knew that Blake was around in it somewhere, the Huntress-in-training had a hand on one hip and her searching motions were unhurried, lacking any real expectance of danger.

Blake knew that Yang really had no need to be worried about being attacked. It was less about them being practically at the doorstep of her home territory as it was just another of their unwritten rules. Never had they attempted to strike each other down in any sort of sneak attack without at least giving some sign that they were around and given a chance to properly prepare.

They never had but that didn't mean it couldn't change and Blake experienced a sudden flash of irritation at Yang's relaxed demeanor. Did it not bother her or make her suspicious in the least that she had been instructed to come out here, alone? Had it not crossed her mind that this could be the night where their little game would finally come to an end and Blake would be using their arrangement to her advantage to kill or, better yet, capture her?

The temptation briefly came to give Yang a more immediate reminder but the scroll in her pocket outweighed the sword at her back. Information would prove to be more powerful than a sharp edge and, when this was all over, not seeing each other again was the least that they could do.

"Blake?"

One feline ear twitched at hearing her name and the aggression ebbed with how softly it was spoken. Blake stayed where she was in a low crouch, the knuckles of one fist pressed into the grass while the other rested on her knee. She didn't make a move to reveal herself, instead watching through the foliage as Yang drew closer, still trying to spot any kind of sign of the agent.

"Blake?"

There came another twitch of that same ear but, otherwise, Blake stayed still.

Yang turned, unknowingly presenting her back. "Blake, you there?"

Three was enough. Blake rose to her feet. "Right here, Yang."

Yang spun around, that hair swirling around to unveil her startled features. She didn't drop into a fighting stance or show any sign of hostility, however. That initial tension that seized her muscles relaxed, her features doing the same as soon as she saw Blake. "Oh, there you are!"

Blake said nothing and chose to step around the bush in order to fully reveal herself. A smile had come to Yang's face but it was small and became uneasy the longer the faunus kept her silence. Soon, the young Huntress was leaning back, eyeing their surroundings and the sky. "Sooo…nice night, huh?"

"I suppose," Blake replied noncommittally.

"Uh huh." Yang focused back on Blake, her head tilting and her smile shifting to a frown. One brow became quirked. "Any particular reason why you decided to call me out here on this particular night? I mean, not that I mind or anything; it's just that I haven't exactly expected you to ever be here when Beacon is right over, well, there."

Rather than get right down to business, Blake questioned, "Did I pull you away from anything important?"

"Oh, nothing like that," Yang assured, waving her hand dismissively. "I mean, yeah, there's some dance going on tonight but I didn't really care that much about attending. Couldn't get myself a suitable date for it."

Blake briefly looked back over in the direction of Beacon, trying to see some evidence of this dance but found no obvious signs. It was probably somewhere within the heart of the campus, way too much a distance for her. "And your team?"

"Enjoying themselves last I saw."

So her team was distracted as was a good portion of the student body and, more importantly, the staff. Fortuitous. They had all the privacy that the agent could ask for considering the circumstances.

"You didn't answer my question by the way. A midnight fight sounds nice and all but I hardly think this is the place for one."

Blake returned her gaze to Yang and was thankful for her mask as she found it difficult to meet her narrowed eyes. Still nothing particularly antagonistic but, no matter how she may act, Yang could be very perceptive and there was no hiding these obvious indications of something being very out of the ordinary here.

And there were the signs that weren't so obvious, such as the fact that Blake was still wearing her Grimm mask.

The faunus dipped a hand into her pocket, fingertips touching the thin edge of her scroll, and Yang took note of the movement. "Got something there?"

"I do," Blake confirmed. "After our last fight, you asked me if I ever saw or knew anything about the woman in the photo you showed me."

The change to Yang's posture was instantaneous. Her spine straightened, brows rising high and Blake knew that she had her full attention. It also confirmed everything that she had thought about before: that the woman that she had seen was very much important to Yang.

"Did you find out something?" Yang asked, the anticipation palpable. She seemed about ready to pounce and bombard Blake with questions but was forcing herself to remain where she was.

Blake pinched the device between her digits but didn't make any move to pull it out just yet. She instead took a moment to examine Yang, her hidden gaze taking note of the amount of hope in the human's eyes and how her expression clearly said how this information – any information – had been something that she had desired. For how long and how much Blake didn't know but could make guesses.

"Before I say anything about that," Blake spoke, "I need to say something else. Yang, while I'm not sure if this will be the last time we'll ever see each other again, I do know that, after tonight, this _will_ be the last time we'll ever meet like…this."

That got Yang to restrain herself. As eager as she was to learn about the information that Blake carried, the faunus's words had her digesting the significance behind them. When she did, Yang appeared concern. "Is something happening?"

"You know I can't tell you the specifics and, honestly, I'm not sure of them myself. All I can say is that things are happening in the White Fang. In a couple hours I'll be leaving Vale and, if we ever do meet again, it will not be as acquaintances." Despite all they had been through, Blake had never been able to even think of themselves as friends, especially not now.

Yang quietly regarded her, the wheels no doubt turning in her head about what it may be that the White Fang was up to. She probably had an idea as she had been there at the rally when Torchwick had briefed the new recruits about something going on in the southeast and it was Team RWBY that was constantly in the way of the Vale cell's operations. Even if she did, Blake didn't know if RWBY would be able to follow the White Fang and meddle in any affairs outside the kingdom. Maybe they would bring it up to their superiors, especially with what Blake was choosing to inform Yang about now, and if they did the agent wouldn't blame them.

If anything, she was a little relieved at the prospect.

Blake wasn't expecting Yang's concern to transition to full-on worry and even regret. "So that's it?"

"It…yes, it is." Saying it aloud really did give that finality to it that hadn't been there before no matter how much Blake had thought about it.

Yang bit her lip, becoming lost in thought as she also registered it. Instead of accepting it, however, her fingers slowly clenched and unclenched at her sides, clearly wanting to do something against this but couldn't quite figure out how to do so. There was nothing solid for her to hit. Nothing that she could beat down and prevent what had always been inevitable.

Her struggle was not completely in vain though. Watching Yang, seeing her clearly torn about this, convinced Blake to bring up the issue that had plagued her ever since this all started between them. She believed she had figured it out but if this was going to be their last time, she wanted to be sure. "Yang, what was all this to you?"

"This?"

"This." Blake gestured to herself, to Yang, and then all around them. "All of this. We've been at this for months. We sneak away from our teams, we fight, we beat each other senseless, and then we do it over and over again. Bizarre doesn't even begin to describe what we've been doing."

"That's true," Yang conceded, sporting a tiny smirk.

"So why do you do it? I don't know about you, but when we met each other at the rally and I came after you, it was with every intention to kill you. You were a Huntress meddling in the White Fang's affairs and I was the assassin sent to kill you. When we fell from the highway, I really thought you were dead and I was ready to turn around and forget all about you. So how did it come to this? Why did you decide to let this become a _thing_?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure if I have the full answer to that either." Yang rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. "Don't get me wrong, I knew you were trying to kill me. It certainly felt like you were and I was still feeling it in the morning. And I admit to liking it. I've made some enemies here and there but you were the first person who tried that hard and came that close to making me dead. After that night when we gave each other our names, I hoped that we would meet and fight again."

"That was all it was to you then?" Blake asked. "Just a good fight?"

"Well, yeah, but only at first."

Blake blinked behind those gold-tinted lenses. "What do you mean?"

"How to explain…" Her tight-fitting shorts lacking pockets, Yang chose to slide her hands beneath the belt that held up her skirt, tugging against it while she kicked at the ground absently. "My team interrupted us before we could finish and the only thing I could think of for a while _was _finding and meeting you again so that we could settle that score. Then we did meet again but, that time, you had to retreat with your other guys."

Blake remembered that. It had been a White Fang safe house that had been uncovered and later assaulted. She had been in the area and chose to cover the retreat of the fleeing members. She didn't know if Yang had actually been looking for her that night but the two of them did meet again and briefly clashed before the growing presence of the kingdom's police had forced Blake to break off and retreat much like before.

"Then we met for a third time," Yang continued, "and I thought that was going to be the charm. We could've ended it there but then there was that crazy idea of why should we?"

It had been the exact same idea that Blake had. Ember Celica's barrel had been pressed to her cheek while Gambol Shroud had been at Yang's throat. They had both been glaring at each other – bruised, bleeding, and panting for breath -, each one poised to deliver their own finishing blow. After having been denied a victory twice, they had both wanted to finish it.

Or did they? It had dawned on the human first, Blake having seen how Yang snapped herself out of the combat-induced haze. She had looked, really looked, as best as she could into Blake's hidden eyes and the action had brought the faunus out of it as well. An understanding had passed between them that started with Ember Celica drifting away an inch, Gambol Shroud similarly pulling back until finally they were separated with weapons hanging low.

For Blake, Yang had become more than a worthy opponent who could reignite that spark of life with their duels. In that moment, there came a different kind of connection that led them to silently agreeing to separate and lower their weapons. For what felt like too long in her life, Blake had found someone who really could understand her in light of such simple actions even if it was something that only occurred on the battlefield.

"But why?" Blake asked, having found no true answer even after all this time. "If it isn't just about the fighting then what is it? You only knew me as an enemy and, after we met, you had to have figured out what I've done. You weren't the first person I went after, Yang; you're just the first I haven't killed."

Yang didn't offer an immediate response to that and her thumbs played with the clasp of her belt in the ensuing silence. Then, nodding, she said, "I did know."

"Did you?" Blake queried. "Do you? I've killed…" She paused before shaking her head. "I don't even know how many people I've killed. Countless. Not just humans either as I've killed faunus, too. My own kind. Why would you ever want to associate with someone like that?"

"I don't know," Yang admitted. "When you say it like that, you really should've just been someone who I should've taken down a long time ago."

"Then _why_?" Blake asked with more insistence. That's what every other human had thought of her and not just after she became a killer but before as well. She eventually chose to believe it and accept it once she committed that unforgivable act. So why now and why a human? Why Yang of all people?

"You were…different." Shrugging, Yang elaborated, "Back then at the rally, there were all those faunus who couldn't wait to see me executed. They were cheering for it if I remember correctly. Then there was you; that White Fang assassin who was ready to slit my throat. I didn't truly understand back then but while all those others were demanding for blood, you were just standing there all quiet. You weren't acting like them and I guess that got me curious. Then when we started fighting all those times…"

Yang lowered her head, staring at her hands. "I like fighting. I like the adrenaline, I like the thrill, and one of the things I always wish for is to fight someone who could make it last. My Semblance is all about that; to keep hitting and being hit, let it all build up, and then let it all go when I have enough. But there's more to it than that and I guess I never really understood until I started fighting you. It goes without saying that you enjoy it - we both know that.

You just admitted to killing people and, while that may be true, all I can think of are all of our battles and what I sense from each one. It didn't feel like I was fighting a murderer or some psychopath. You liked it just as much as I did but for different reasons. I wanted to fight someone as good as I am, and I think you wanted to fight me and keep fighting me because I was someone who only saw you as that and not a murderer. You say you've killed people but…something tells me that that was something you never wanted to do."

Blake didn't say anything and found that the reason for it was because she couldn't. That _was_ why she did it. She could label it all as a distraction but there was no use to denying that the reason she had first started enjoying it and the reason why she kept meeting Yang was because she was the first human who had treated her as an equal. She had enjoyed being seen as that and she'd always snap at Yang whenever she made a mention about her faunus traits, not wanting to remember the divide that existed between them no matter what their opinions may be.

But Yang just said…

_"I was someone who only saw you as that and not a murderer."_

Murderer. She said murderer. Not faunus which might as well be equal to that in the eyes of most people. She didn't care about that and probably never did. She was one of those humans who didn't register the difference between their races and all the pain that it caused, including what it drove Blake to do and…

It was too late and she said that out loud. "It's too late. Whether I wanted to or not it doesn't matter. I _am_ a murderer. No matter how much different you think of me compared to the rest, in that regard we're the same."

It was far, far too late. She sealed her fate as soon as she pressed that button and truly joined the ranks of the White Fang, becoming another faunus who had forsaken everything in exchange for the capability to do what others couldn't. It doesn't matter if she didn't want to do it or not because she had already done it. It was too late.

So she was taken completely off guard when Yang asked, "Is it too late?"

She couldn't possibly see how Blake was looking at her but the faunus's mouth opening in disbelief may've been more than enough while Blake stuttered, "W-what?"

Lifting her head, Yang focused right at her eyes much like how she had done before when they had wordlessly agreed to turning this into something more than just another battle to the death between human and faunus. "You didn't want to do it and you still don't. I feel quite sure about that. So why not stop? You said you have to leave Vale because of what the White Fang are planning next. Why not stay instead? I can't say for certain about all that's happened to you or why you chose to become a killer, but don't you think you can stay here and start over despite all of that instead of continuing?"

Start…over?

The site of the carnage that was burning, skeletal remains that was the result of the explosives and released energies of Nature's Wrath crossed Blake's mind. All that destruction, all the lives that had been lost in the center of it, all literally done by her hand. How could she possibly start over after something like that?

She couldn't. That was what she told herself. She had become a murderer, had fallen, and was no longer any different from Adam or their fellow brethren.

_But that wasn't-_

It was always meant to be and she had been to blind to it. Her skills and her weapons had been meant to kill humans. She had remained in a group that was doing just that for years. It was going to happen and staying doomed her to it.

_Killing wasn't-_

She didn't do anything to prevent it. She didn't leave. She completed her mission to the fullest. It was unavoidable.

_All of that wasn't-_

She stayed. She killed. She had gone on to do so without question and without thought. She just let the body count get bigger and bigger without stopping and had done so with lethal efficiency that was devoid of any hesitation until she had left a long trail of corpses behind her. Not once had she ever looked back.

_It wasn't what I wanted to do._

It was that part of her that had futilely tried and failed to prevent her from making that mistake. It was her conscience that had held out until the very end when it had died along with the innocents that she massacred. Never again was it meant to utter a word as it was doing now.

All because of this possibility that not all was as lost as she had believed.

"No!"

Blake witnessed Yang jumping at her shout but the faunus was barely aware of it. She was too busy looking back over her shoulder at the path of death that she had carved out and left in her wake. Human, faunus, young, old. She killed them all.

"You're wrong," she exclaimed, her voice a horrified whisper. Her hand was back against her head as she shook it fiercely to try and put a stop to the faces that were running through her mind. What had been once featureless targets became names. People. "You're wrong, you're wrong!"

From the shadows she had struck and she had done so with speed and little room for error. She heard all kinds of wet, choking sounds that changed in tune depending on what organ she stabbed or where she cut. She felt all too plainly those subtle resistances of bones that were so diverse when it came to thickness but what Gambol Shroud cleaved through anyway. Each deed came with the heavy scent of blood that would flood her nose.

But all of that was meant to disrupt the worst thing she would hear from her victims if she was not quick enough to silence them: their pleas of mercy. Their testaments of innocence. Their fear of death and wanting to live. Those mentions of family members or loved ones who would miss them and would experience such pain when they were gone. All done by her.

All of which she was now being told could've been prevented.

_No, it couldn't have_, Blake argued, doing the one thing that she hadn't done before: make excuses. _There was nothing else. I tried but no one would listen or ask what I wanted._

Everyone just kept turning her into something they wanted. Humans saw her as an animal who didn't deserve the most basic human rights. Adam and the White Fang saw her as a weapon that could be forged against humanity. She had never been given a chance to think she was anything else. Everyone only wanted her to be something so monstrous, so she decided she would act like it. There was no way for her to go on as anything else and each death she was responsible for was further acceptance to it.

"I can't start over," Blake said and wondered why her words didn't seem as certain to her as they should be. She began spouting more to assure herself that she couldn't, her voice rising higher to drown out anything that would point to the contrary. She had been doomed from the start and nothing would've changed, especially not now. "I'm a monster! All those people are dead because of me! They begged me to spare them but I killed them anyway without a second's thought! All of them had better reasons to live than me but they're dead and I was the one who did it!"

If she hadn't, someone else would've. Maybe Adam or maybe some other faunus like her who would've been turned into a scapegoat in her stead. All those people were already dead, having done something to cross the White Fang's path. She just happened to be the weapon that was hanging from the wall to administer it. That was all that she was.

Yang was standing frozen where she was, watching with wide eyes but unable to comprehend just what she had done. Becoming aware of her presence again, Blake rounded on her. "I almost killed you! I was the one who stabbed you! You were the one who almost died!"

Broken out of her trance at being confronted, Yang immediately started, "It was an accident! I know you didn't mean to-"

"And what would you know!?" Blake snapped, the reminder of everything she did making all what Yang said nothing but nonsense. "So what if it was an accident or not!? That doesn't mean anything! It never did! You would've been dead and that would've been it! You would've ended up as another dead human and I would've gone on to dump more right on top of you!"

What did Yang know? She was as ignorant as the rest. She had no right to insinuate that Blake could start over when she experienced none of what the faunus had gone through! She hadn't been the subject of all that hate or all those expectations that had been placed on her to become something she didn't want to be! She hadn't been forced to balance her life with those of others who were already dead, the choice having been so easy to make when looked upon like that. That was all that this world was about and to say anything to the contrary was absurd.

It was then that Blake remembered that she had a way to truly introduce Yang to what the world was like. She pulled out her scroll, activating it before furiously stabbing her finger upon the screen as she opened up the selection of photos.

"You want to know what it's like?" Blake seethed vehemently. "You want to know how indecent this world is? You want to experience some of what I've gone through?" She cocked her arm back and threw the scroll at Yang. "Then here! This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

It bounced against Yang's chest and she awkwardly caught it before it could fall to the ground. She didn't look at it immediately, her shocked gaze remaining on Blake. She glanced down at the screen, then up at Blake again, and then finally focused back on the screen.

Blake waited, the anger she felt towards Yang placated by the anticipation of how she was about to get a taste of what Blake had gone through. It was the human's fault for making such a ridiculous claim and Blake had never hated her as she did right now for uttering such blatant _lies_.

Lies that were attempting to fool her into thinking that if she had just held on a little longer and hadn't given in to the demands of others, there could've been someplace for her after all.

She wanted this to be over with. As soon as it was done, she would return to Vale, return to the White Fang, and she would go back to doing what she had been meant to and always will do.

But first, she wanted to watch.

And she did. Once Yang saw the image that filled the screen, Blake watched as the recognition and disbelief at seeing it flew to her face. She gripped the scroll with both hands in order to bring it closer and get a better look to prove that what she was seeing was real. That hope from before rose up again.

Then Yang started swiping through the others that Blake had taken and the faunus predicted what would happen next. The next image came up, Yang's finger freezing to let her take it all in. Then she swiped again and her finger froze for far longer upon sighting the third image.

Recognition had given way to make room for that growing hope and the disbelief began to wane as Yang realized that what she was seeing was all real. By the time she got to the third image, her eyes flicking about to take all that it offered, a sudden stillness came to her features. After a few seconds she blinked and Blake saw the change immediately, the disbelief returning.

There were more and there was hesitation when Yang moved on to the fourth image. Then the fifth. Then the sixth.

There was an increasingly slowness to her swiping and the examinations that Yang made were losing their enthusiasm. As she went through them, more details were disclosed to her and a realization was being made. The even swiping motions of her finger were becoming erratic as she moved it left, then right. She was no longer looking at the pictures in order but skipping and going back to double-check to make sure she wasn't seeing things. That hope transformed; when just a moment ago Yang had been hoping that these images were real, Blake could see the opposite occur as she was now hoping they weren't.

"This can't be right…"

The agent's ears perked up, barely catching the near-silent proclamation of incredulity. Yang had that stare that Blake knew: seeing but not seeing. She hardly blinked and her finger was moving in a half-conscious way as it sluggishly slid at random intervals along the scroll.

"It's her," Yang breathed out. "But if she's there then that would mean…"

The scroll dropped from a hand that had lost its grip but was still raised. Yang maintained that unseeing gaze, staring directly at her gloved palm as if examining something else within the threads.

Blake remained where she was, still watching. She had half a mind to turn and leave Yang as she was as it was quite clear that the damage had been done but she didn't. She stayed rooted in place, even when the silence stretched between them; morphing from seconds to a full minute.

"I looked for her for so long."

The mask continued to hide Blake's features. That and her stance made her appear almost as nothing more than a statue that was entirely impassive when Yang mustered up her next quiet words. The subtle rise of her chin could've been passed off as nothing but, had the mask not been there, the blinking of Blake's eyes would've been far more noticeable as they remained focused at Yang's face, watching intently.

Yang didn't seem to register Blake or anything of the outside world, lost in recollection. "After I learned about her, I always wondered why she abandoned me. I asked anyone who knew anything about her and used whatever clues I could to find her. I looked long and hard, and I almost…my sister and I…" The blonde actually sank to her knees and was once again staring at the scroll, it having shut off when she dropped it.

"Just…all of that," she continued, looking lost and barely audible. "I went through all of that for her and…_that's _what she's been doing this whole time? After all I did…"

She trembled and Blake saw her teeth gritting as she bent forward, eyes squeezed shut. Her hands were clenched at her sides, making the faunus wonder if she was going to lash out at anything around her. When she opened her eyes again, it was to reveal that they had shifted to their red coloring that practically glowed within the surrounding darkness.

"All of that was just a _waste_?"

Blake sucked an involuntary breath, the words much too similar to the ones that she had thought to herself. There came a knee-jerk reaction when Yang fell back onto her rear, the agent barely reeling herself in from taking a step towards the human. Yang was still trembling and her hands suddenly shot to her mouth.

That was when Blake saw the sparks. One slipped between Yang's fingers before she covered her mouth and even when sealed she could still see the unstable flashing of bright orange beneath her hands.

For all the time they've fought against each other, everything that Blake had learned about Yang's Semblance concerned the external. External attacks that were inflicted upon her by an external enemy which she then collected and used to strike back. External pain to inflict external damage.

Only now, when another burst of embers left Yang's mouth and illuminated the space beneath her digits, did it dawn on Blake about the possibility of the reverse: internal pain. The kind that came from having your own hopes and dreams crushed underfoot by reality. The rage and despair at the revelation that was unfolded before your eyes, that everything you once believed in was a lie all along. Throwing out blame to anyone or anything did little to appease it as, in the end, the only one who was really to blame was yourself for having been so foolish to put yourself in that position to begin with.

And since it was pain that Yang had inflicted upon herself, her Semblance was reacting in the only way it knew how.

Yang suddenly heaved, looking as if she was about to throw up but the brief loosening of her fingers showed a small jet of flame that she coughed out. Blake was watching it all in silence but behind her lenses her eyes were growing wider in horror, her jaw hanging free as she remembered the blaze that she had witnessed and what she had caused and what had burned away everything she had once knew and believed in, leaving nothing in this shell that was easily molded into what she was now.

As another stream of smoke and fire left Yang's mouth, Blake found herself looking upon the hints of another that she ignited. One that was now choking and eating away at Yang and one that even she couldn't take as she coughed and heaved, her cries in between small but desperate.

_ I did this, _Blake thought with growing fright. _I wanted this. What have I done?_

The next exhalation of flames came with something else. Steam rose from Yang's face, the source being the tears that had fallen from her eyes but were quickly being evaporated. No relief or aid, only the heat that was consuming her.

No, not like this. Not like this and not Yang!

Blake was moving before she could even consider what may happen with her next action. She crossed the distance between them, Yang barely aware of the faunus's approach and only able to give her a glance before Blake drew her fist back and punched her right in the face.

Her knuckles connected solidly with Yang's cheek and turned her head to the side, the blow almost enough to topple her over completely. Her hands flew away from her mouth, releasing one last jet of fire, but another didn't immediately come to replace it. That was the intention: to give Yang someone else to focus on.

It worked too well. Yang remained with her head turned aside for only a few seconds before it was whipping back around to the forefront, her eyes still devoured in molten fury that she directed at Blake. "_You!_"

Before Blake could react she was lifted off her feet and her back was slamming hard against the bark of a tree, air rushing out of her. An attempt to recollect some of it was cut off when Yang's hands closed around her throat. Blake's own shot up to grab Yang's wrists but her strength was nothing compared to the brawler's. Her feet kicked out, held a good foot from the ground but it was doing her no good. Her Aura was holding but she could feel it giving way beneath Yang's grip as she sought to strangle her or, perhaps, crush her neck outright.

"Yang…no…!" Blake managed to wheeze out. "Don't-!" She was cut off when Yang further tightened her grip, leaving her to do nothing but vainly attempt to collect what little oxygen she could.

_Don't do this._

Yang was immune to her struggles in every sense of it. Blake's kicks and pulls against her wrists – growing more feeble with each passing second – did little to ease her hold. The pleas that had been cut off and the look of desperation failed to break through the fury that had Yang glaring up at Blake, lips twisted in a quiet snarl.

_She can't see._ Her lungs were already burning and blackness was beginning to creep into her vision. She had stopped kicking and her own hands were beginning to loosen. One fell away and dropped back to her side but the other she kept up and then lifted even further to her own face. She wanted Yang to see…

She managed to grab her mask just as there was almost nothing left of her vision except for those burning red eyes that glared up at her. Those eyes that she had once loved being at the receiving end of. Those orbs that held such power but it was power that was focused and tempered. Now they radiated such senseless rage and were seeing nothing but a subject of hate that was staring back at with empty lenses and limited features. With only moments left until she was given to the void, Blake pulled it off.

The Grimm mask that she and every other faunus of the White Fang wore did a good job of making them appear as the monsters that humanity made them out to be. It hid their eyes and every other form of expression that was centered at their face. This included the tears that fell like a flood down Blake's cheeks, the covering worn tight enough to her head that it had collected and hid every drop that had fallen as soon as she realized just what it was she had done to Yang.

She immediately began regaining the air she needed when the grip around her neck loosened. She slumped against the tree, aware that she was back on her feet when her legs nearly failed at keeping her up. She coughed, reflexively massaging her neck and wondering how bruised it'll be. She looked up to Yang.

Those red eyes had receded and were replaced with subdued lilacs which looked to Blake with shock. They shifted to the hands that had just been in the middle of strangling her, open and empty of that crushing strength.

Blake noted the quiet whimpering and assumed that it was Yang who was responsible. It was only when Yang focused back on her and Blake's first swipe at the tears at her face proved to be a futile attempt to clear them that it dawned on her that between the sniffling and her gasps of breath she was in fact making such tiny, pathetic cries that were normally unfit for someone like her.

It was what had her meeting Yang's astonished gaze as she silently pleaded, _Don't turn into something like me._

She saw the realization hit Yang as to what it was that she had been about to do. Appalled with herself and face increasingly pale, the Huntress took a step away from Blake which was followed up by another, seemingly about to flee.

Seized with a sudden, irrational impulse, Blake lunged forward, catching Yang in a frantic embrace. The blonde staggered and tried to keep herself from falling and it was the maintaining of her balance that became the opportunity that Blake needed for their lips to collide together. Within her grip, she could feel how Yang stiffened and then struggled against the hold while muffled squeaks and other sounds beat against Blake's lips.

The faunus was knocked back against the tree a second time although in this instance Yang's hands were at her wrists, keeping hers pinned to the sides of her head once she managed to free herself. The human herself didn't seem to know how she should feel, staring at Blake as a maelstrom of emotions raged across her features, most of them belonging to such nature as surprise, confusion, and bewilderment, but there was still the remnants of that previous anger that Yang wasn't sure if she should be feeling or not in the wake of Blake's unexpected move along with offence. Blood trickled down from her lip, the unexpected kiss having been delivered so roughly that Yang had accidentally bit it.

It wasn't black. The rivulet of blood that went from lip to chin was a normal red and Blake was relieved to see it and could even taste the hot, metallic tang at her own. Yang's tongue reflexively licked up some of it, the girl still looking incredulous.

Much like when she hit her, Blake was trying to mitigate what damage she could. She knew of the vortex of uncertainty that Yang must be going through; a daunting revelation that had turned her entire world upside down followed by nearly committing an act she would've never forgiven herself for. Blake had been there, although the difference was that she had gone all the way. There had been no one there to stop her, only others who had assisted pushing her over the edge and had her falling the long, hard journey down.

There were probably people back at Beacon who Yang could turn to. She could turn her back on Blake, go back to the school, and her own loved ones could help restore her to what she was now that Blake had taken care of the worst of it.

But right now, Blake just wanted to be selfish. She wanted to remain just a bit longer and offer all that she could so long as Yang would have her.

She could see Yang debating on it. As she remained against the tree, giving no word or struggle, it allowed Yang to comprehend what it was that Blake was trying to say with how she firmly stared at her.

In the end, Yang decided to be selfish too.

Blake detected her giving in the moment before their lips were coming together again. She was still unprepared for it for, while her kiss had been hard and sloppy, Yang's viciously plundered her lips. It took Blake's breath away, rough lips sealed with her own before an insistent tongue pushed through in order to mingle with hers. Rubbing up and down, exploring, brushing over her slightly sharper canines; the friction sent electricity tingling down her body.

Blake wasn't freed from Yang's grasp and the weak tugging of her hands which were held down by the brawler's iron grip told her that that wasn't going to change either. She nonetheless arched her body up against her, unable to hold back a sudden moan at the brief brushings with Yang's sturdier form as the kiss went on.

They parted for only moments, Blake gasping for an entirely different reason while her cheeks were flooded with heat and color, then Yang was coming back in order to drain the air back out of her. With it was an ebbing of her other sense as they became flooded with everything that was Yang. There was the rough skin of her lips, her taste that Blake sampled both from the warm blood that remained and their tongues that dueled for dominance with the faunus losing. Her untainted scent overwhelmed Blake's sense of smell, the sweet fragrance of lilies that was so at odds with her usual coating of expended Burn Dust catching her off guard and further debilitating her already muddled sensibilities.

Her usually exceptional vision was oddly blurred so Blake didn't bother with it, instead closing them and becoming lost in these sensations. She could feel the curls of Yang's hair brushing against her closed lids and heated cheeks, taunting her with touch and another sampling of her scent. How she wanted to reach out and grab those tresses and anything that her hands could grasp but she couldn't even budge them. It was during another renewed tugging that Blake realized that her hands had been moved in the midst of her intoxication, having been placed together above her head so that Yang could use one hand to keep them locked together.

The other was allowed to do what Blake wanted but was denied. Fingers passed through her ebony hair, brushing against her cat ears, but when there came another break from their kiss, they swiftly tugged a handful of hair that had Blake wincing and tilting her head, leaving her neck exposed and all for Yang to explore with her lips as they passed over the bruising skin, the sweet touches making Blake grow dizzy no matter how many breaths she took before she was being kissed again.

That hand continued exploring, running down and caressing her cheek before sliding along the curve of her body, pausing at her hip and then making its way back up. It came close but nowhere near enough to alleviate the ache that was becoming more and more prominent at Blake's core.

The faunus was no virgin and the confidence that was carried with Yang's touch told Blake that the human probably wasn't either. Yet she found herself exceptionally vulnerable to Yang's ministrations because it _was_ Yang who was doing this to her. The human she was supposed to hate but was now locked in a union that was not only forbidden but she believed to be impossible. It was Yang that was keeping her arms shackled together with her formidable strength, Yang that had lips and tongue so enmeshed with her own, and it was Yang's palm that went to her chest and squeezed her breast through her uniform, the cry that resulted effectively smothered.

So when Yang did choose to alleviate that ache by pressing her knee between Blake's legs, it didn't take long for the agent to fall over the edge as she was already teetering. Her leggings soaked up what dampness got through her underwear but did nothing to blunt the motion against her clit. That knee lifted her up until she was on her toes and Blake instinctively rolled her hips, increasing the friction just enough…

She whined into Yang as she came, hips now jerking to ride out the pleasure that blanketed her mind and vision in white.

When she came to her senses, it was to discover her looking to the ground, her body momentarily limp and Yang being the only one keeping her up. She had retracted her leg and the hand that gripped Blake's wrists only did so to keep her on her feet as the agent's legs were currently trembling while she panted for breath.

The confidence that Yang had earlier was gone when Blake finally raised her head. With the break that settled over them, some of the frustration having been relieved, a measure of rational thought returned to take away Yang's resolve as she examined the flushed and panting Blake, beginning to look regretful at what she did.

It was that and her weakened grasp that allowed Blake to seize a thumb and twist it.

Yang yelped in pain as Blake used the control she exerted with the thumb lock to twist her arm behind her back, the faunus following with it so that she was standing behind her as well. She went to Gambol Shroud but gripped the trailing ribbon instead of the hilt, bringing it forward to wind two loops around the wrist she kept immobilized when she added another nudge of pressure, earning another shout from Yang.

The Huntress struck back with her other arm, blindly swinging it behind her in a bid to hit Blake. Instead, it became just as restrained when Blake blocked and wrapped the ribbon around it, tying her hands together.

She did it just in time. Once she completed the last loop, there came the brief shifting and winding of gears as Ember Celica sought to activate. Unfortunately, the bracelets didn't get far before they strained against Gambol Shroud's ribbon which kept them from forming. They were as bound as their owner.

A kick behind her leg and a forceful shove had Yang falling to the ground, landing on her tied limbs. A second later and Blake was straddling her and this time Gambol Shroud _was_ in hand, the blade high with tip pointed down towards Yang who froze upon seeing it. Slowly, she looked from the blade to the faunus, her brows lowering so that she was glowering up at her.

Blake's eyes had similarly narrowed until they were dangerous slits as she examined her quarry. Her arms pinned behind her, her blonde hair spread out underneath her, but even then she was staring up challengingly at Blake. In combination with the silver light of the hanging moon highlighting some of her features…

Beautiful. This was the Yang she knew and loved best. Tossing Gambol Shroud aside, Blake grabbed Yang's jacket and pulled her up, their mouths crashing together once again.

This time it was Blake who was in control and she was going to make the most of it. She eased Yang back down and followed, laying herself on top of her while the blonde got over her initial surprise and began reciprocating. Blake's breasts pressed into the larger, supple mounds that were Yang's, the only barrier between them being their clothes. She immediately sought to correct it, unzipping Yang's jacket and pushing it open as far as it could go with her bound limbs.

She let her fingers trail along Yang's ribs during the journey to that yellow top and Blake experienced a sense of satisfaction at the quivering she detected. Beneath the smooth skin, she could make out the hardened muscles that made Yang such a strong, formidable opponent but was currently at Blake's mercy.

Just as her fingers slipped beneath the edge of Yang's top, they touched on an abnormality and one that had Blake breaking away from Yang so that she could inspect what she already knew she would find when she pulled it up.

It was a scar. Small, thin, and the crooked, diagonal line it made beneath Yang's breast was only a couple inches long.

It had been the closest Blake had ever come to killing Yang. During a night of a particular intense duel, Blake had broken through Yang's Aura and Gambol Shroud had stabbed through flesh and muscle before piercing her liver, resulting in the black blood that haunted Blake to this day.

It was only the fact that she was such an exceptionally strong woman and emergency vehicles having already been practically on site that allowed Yang to live. Well, that and a certain red-cloaked reaper that had arrived to witness the near-fatal blow having been struck. That same reaper who immediately assaulted Blake, swinging that scythe in wide, chaotic swings in a mad attempt to strike down the White Fang assassin.

It was after one such swing that the hood fell back, revealing the face of a young girl with tears streaming down her cheeks, features contorted with rage and grief which tainted her screams as she attacked Blake.

Yang had mentioned a leader, but not a sister. Blake learned a lot that night, the most valuable lesson having been that the human was not as invincible as she always appeared to be. Yang had weaknesses, she could break like any normal person, and that night she nearly met her end. She recovered and when they met again she tossed Blake the sword which the faunus had left in her before getting into a fighting stance, that and the grin being the only thing Blake needed to understand that she wanted to continue with what they had.

But it was never the same again. Everything had changed after that. Blake made it a point to hardly ever wear her mask in Yang's presence, never wanting her to look upon it as she did when Blake had stabbed her. With that mask came those troubling thoughts that had Blake thinking beyond their battles. It had awakened a desire to be seen as Blake Belladonna again rather than a White Fang killer which she was now only realizing. To be someone who could care and be cared for like Yang who had friends and a sister who would defend and kill for her. And it was Yang who she believed could help her accomplish that.

Although Yang had never brought it up again, Blake wondered if the near-death experience held some influence when Yang had nearly strangled her. She was hit with a potent sense of remorse that had her lips touching tenderly along the length of the scar.

"Blake."

Her ears twitched up and Blake looked up.

"It's okay," Yang assured, smiling gently.

That night, she had almost killed the only person who understood her and Blake's heart twisted in the wake of that smile that she could've never seen again. To take her mind off it, Blake pushed the rest of Yang's top up, her tongue running up from the bottom of her breast to the tip where she bit a stiffened nipple.

The action caused Yang to gasp and arch beneath her. "B-Blake!"

A shudder went down Blake's spine at hearing her name spoken like that. That was it. That was what she needed; to be referred to with such want. To be important to someone.

Her tongue flicked along where she just bit, her hands finally being given free reign as the cupped and kneaded those breasts, the malleable flesh working like clay in her hands. Yang squirmed beneath her, arms straining against their bindings, but she was totally and completely Blake's, the idea of which caused Blake's thighs to twitch. Later. Right now, it was Yang's turn.

While her mouth continued to nip and lick at Yang's breasts, her hands made their journey down, fingertips gliding along that smooth skin and once again Blake took immense satisfaction with how each part that she touched twitched and quivered beneath her fingertips. Her stomach Blake gave particular attention to, her nails scratching lightly at the chiseled muscles which sucked in in response.

The faunus had built up a fine sheen of saliva that caused those breasts to glisten when she finally pulled away in order to give Yang another kiss, interrupting those quiet moans that constantly left her mouth. By then she had reached Yang's shorts, blindly fumbling with the button before unzipping them.

Yang barely seemed aware with what was about to come. When Blake inspected her face, it was to see it completely flushed, the blonde panting while her eyes were clouded with lust. The usually mighty and infallible warrior reduced to this had Blake swallowing hard.

It was time to give Yang her just desserts. Blake moved down, giving herself minor detours to lavish last minute attention to Yang's breasts and lick along her navel. Below, her fingers unbuckled Yang's belt and skirt before hooking beneath the blonde's shorts and panties in order to pull them down her legs and toss them both aside, leaving her in her boots.

The scent of Yang's arousal hitting Blake's nostrils sent the faunus's head swimming when she lowered enough to take a deep inhale of it. Rational thought flying out the window, all that Blake was left with was that primal, instinctive desire to please the one she loved. Arms hooking around Yang's thighs, she spread them wide, her fingers peeling open those lower lips, and then she was giving them a long, slow lick.

Yang bucked against her but Blake was prepared, arms tightening to keep her down while her tongue swept along the moist slit, causing the blonde to shout and curse. It urged Blake on, her tongue diving as far as it could go before worming around inside of her.

"B-Blake!" the blonde sputtered, her name breaking through the moans and screams. "Blake, Blake!"

It was when Blake rolled her thumb along the sensitive bud that was her clit that Yang came undone. The frantic rolling of Yang's hips suddenly stopped, the blonde's entire body seizing, then she was keening as she shook and bucked erratically, her walls constricting around the intruding muscle. The sweet fluids of Yang's orgasm coated Blake's tongue, the faunus giving no second thought to lick what she could as she drew out Yang's pleasure.

Eventually Yang stilled which Blake took as a sign to pull away. The Huntress was resting against the ground, her bared chest heaving with her sharp inhales while she recovered; a state that had once only came after their duels but, in this instance, Blake experienced a special sense of accomplishment with the methods she used for this.

While Yang caught her breath, Blake untied her. Once freed, Yang's arms laid limp at her sides, making Blake wonder if she really was out of it.

That was when one lilac eye opened, staring right at Blake, and the faunus caught the mischief dancing within the second before she was suddenly knocked onto the ground, Yang's hands planted at either side of her in order to lift herself above her. Grinning down at Blake, Yang questioned, "You didn't really think it was over, did you?"

At first Blake could only blink incredulously up at Yang. Then, slowly, a similar grin crept upon her face. "Honestly, I was hoping it wasn't."

A different kind of battle ensued that night but, as always, they went all out on each other. After tearing Blake free of her uniform and that black lace underwear, the faunus found her back once again pressed against a rough bark. Without her clothes and Gambol Shroud, it scratched painfully at her back but Blake hardly cared, more concerned with the two fingers that drove into her core with hard, deep thrusts. A third followed and Blake clung tightly to Yang, nails making their own scratches into the blonde's back while sharpened teeth bit deep into her shoulder to muffle her scream as she came again.

Yang eventually got her turn to get a thorough taste of Blake, her breasts pressing down on Blake's stomach while she licked and buried her tongue into her sex. Meanwhile, Blake was getting a second helping as she returned the favor.

The end came within Yang's embrace, something that Blake was more than happy for. Leaning back against Yang's front, Blake was once again subjected to the other girl's fingers which curled and corkscrewed as far as they would go. While Yang lightly kissed the bruises along her neck – her own silent but heartfelt apologies for harming Blake -, her other hand delicately rubbed and scratched Blake's cat ears.

Such gentle but loving affection was enough to bring Blake to her last climax. She collapsed against Yang, completely spent, and the Huntress understood. Yang encircled her arms protectively around Blake, drawing her close, and she retrieved the largest article of their discarded clothes to throw over the both of them to use as an improvised blanket.

It was none other than the long, white tunic of Blake's uniform. Exhausted she may be, Blake was still able to catch the symbol of the White Fang: the red and vicious wolf head, complete with the claw marks.

So what did this all mean? Considering what had just occurred, nothing was going back to normal after this. Obviously she was going to be missing her flight but, even if she wasn't, Blake no longer felt any compulsion to follow the White Fang anymore. Then again, she couldn't say she had ever felt truly compelled to follow that cause for a while now.

It had simply been all that was left for her. It had become an organization of killers and she herself was such. There was no changing that. Many had died by her hands, the blood on her so thick that she could never hope to wash it off. Even if she dedicated the rest of her life into making amends for what she had done, there was no way she could possibly replace the lives that she had ended, even if the ones she will try to save for the years to come would vastly outnumber them.

Whether she would find true redemption or remain condemned due to her sins no longer mattered to her either. As she nuzzled against Yang, burying her face into the crook of her neck, she decided that just having a place to be at the side of the only person who truly understood her was enough for her. To be at Yang's side, to see for herself this love and understanding actually exist, that was more than enough for her.

That was something that she would die for. But, finally, she now had something that she also wanted to live and experience for as long as she could. 

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>_Alright, there it is! A White Fang Blake who nonetheless ends up finding love and creating one of our favorite RWBY OTPs! Again, not really sure how I feel about this chapter – and, really, this entire AU – as it holds a lot of firsts and new things that I wanted to experiment with. This is where the reviewers judge and I decide to either stick with something, improve it, or just cut off from doing something ever again based on their opinions. Hope you at least found minor amusement and I hopefully didn't fail to hard with the sex and-_

**Brain: **YOU DID _WHAT!?_

…_.Oooooooh shi-_

**Brain: **WHAT THE HELL IS THIS CRAP!? Mental breakdowns and strangulation leading to the frickity-frackity!?

_Uh….._

**Brain: **THIS IS WHAT YOU DO WHEN I'M NOT AROUND!?

_Woah, hey. You actually suggested the smutz!_

**Brain: **THAT WAS A JOKE! I didn't think you'd actually be stupid enough to do it! Oh gawd, what have you done!? Alright, that's it; we're taking a break from the Bumblebumz! Next project, we're actually gonna use…you know…ME for stuff! So enjoy your birthday tomorrow because after that we've got to reestablish our credibility with smart things!

…_*sigh* Fiiiiinnnnne…_


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